


A Theon, Jon and Robb Christmas Calendar

by theonsfavouritetoy



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Canon Divergence, Different AUs, I'm Bad At Tagging, M/M, Modern, OT3, Some Fluff, a story a day, alternating pairings, everything I could possibly think of, some smut, the stories are not connected (most of them)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-01
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2019-02-07 14:04:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 29,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12842736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theonsfavouritetoy/pseuds/theonsfavouritetoy
Summary: I am apparently mad. But I really wanted to do this, so here's 24 short stories about my favourite boys and ships.The chapters are named after lines from Iwan Rheon's songs. That boy's voice is a GIFT.Pairing and if it's modern (M) or canon divergence (CD) also in the titleSome are smutty, some are fluffy, the ages vary, their relation vary, if they've known each other before... Basically every Story is completely separate from the others, except 2 pairs that are in the same verse.





	1. So why go banging on that door (Theon/Jon, CD)

Snow looked like he couldn't believe his eyes when he opened his door. 

"Greyjoy?" 

Even his voice sounded disbeliefing. And deservedly so, Theon couldn't recall ever visiting Snow's chamber before.

Now he shouldered past him, ignoring the annoyed "Hey!" that Snow uttered at his boldness. 

 

He looked around. Bed, trunk, table, chair, fireplace. That was it. Exactly as he'd always imagined it: dull. And Snow, standing in the middle of the room with crossed arms now, that pouty mouth of his turned into a frown, dark eyes narrowed in suspicion. Theon grinned, delighted with himself. 

 

"You look good, bastard." It was true, he always looked good, but right now with his shortened curls and his jaw shaved clean he looked like a pouty - albeit cute - little girl. Still, the bastard had seemed like he was going to cry after their visit to Tommy‘s, so here Theon was, selflessly trying to lift Snow's spirits. "Really. It suits you."

 

Snow regarded him with angry bewilderment. "Have you come here solely to mock me? I would've thought that beneath you."

Theon was confused. "Beneath me?"

Snow snorted. "Lowering yourself to enter the bastard's chamber?"

Oh. He had a point there, but Theon wasn't going to say that. He really wanted to be nice for once. 

 

"Actually, I mean it. You look... cute."

Snow raised his eyebrows, but his cheeks were reddening. "Stop the crap, Greyjoy. I look like a black sheep."

He was right, Theon thought. Like a little black baby sheep that'd lost its mother. "Baah," he bleated. 

 

Snow looked at him, eyes widening, then - now Theon couldn't believe his eyes - he started laughing. Theon grinned too, pleased on the effect his silly little joke had. 

"Maybe you can find a shepherdess somewhere if you do that in public some time."

 

As soon as Snow's laughter had started it was gone, so quick Theon blinked. Had he imagined it? It still rang in his ears, but the bastard was poutier than ever. "What now, Snow?" he asked with slight annoyence. He could see Snow bristle and cocked an eyebrow questioningly.

 

"You know perfectly well I'm not after the serving girls like you are."

Theon rolled his eyes. "Oh please, enough with the holier-than-thou-attitude. Even our perfect little lordling has some experiences under his belt. And you know, with kissing you don't risk fathering a bastard." 

 

Snow glared at him. "I don't know how to, alright? There now, mock me all you like, I don't deserve better."

Now it was Theon's turn to frown. "Like, never?" Snow huffed in exasperation. "I just TOLD you. Never!"

 

Theon pondered that for a second. 

How could that be? Really, Snow wasn't ugly at all. Even when looking like a sheep. He made a decision. When he was being nice anyways... 

"Wanna learn it?"

 

Snow stared at him as if he'd just grown a second head. "What?"

Theon rolled his eyes. "Don't play stupid. Or are you too craven?"

That got to Snow, he huffed. "No, I'm just worried you'll bite."

Theon laughed. "Was that a joke, Snow? Now come here, before I think better of it."

 

The bastard still looked dubious, but he tottered over obediently. 

"Close your eyes, imagine your favourite girl and hold still." Snow complied, his mouth pressed together tightly. Theon chuckled to himself before leaning forward to brush his lips over Snow's. The bastard flinched, but his tight mouth relaxed a fraction.

 

Theon kissed him again, lingering for a moment before withdrawing. "Bearable?"

Snow's mouth twitched, nearly a smile. "Bearable. But if that's what it is I don't get all the fuss-"

Theon cut him short by placing his hands on the bastard's cheeks, shutting him up rather thoroughly this time.

 

He didn't withdraw until Snow opened his mouth. Theon seized the chance, letting his tongue slide into into the bastard's mouth. Snow's eyes snapped open and he jerked back. "Oh."

Theon grinned at his expression: startled baby sheep. 

 

He leaned back in again and this time Snow met him halfway, mouth open, pouring himself entirely into the kiss. 

Theon broke away. He'd felt himself harden, Snow's eagerness had taken him a bit by surprise. Not a road he wanted to go down, actually.

 

"See?" he said, wiping his mouth. "Wasn't so hard. Now you can try again with a girl." Snow stiffened, if at the words or the gesture Theon couldn't make out.

"I liked... doing that. With you."

 

He sounded surprised and Theon laughed knowingly.

"Bloody virgins... always so eager. Well, my charitable visit better lightened your mood, Snow. Don't think I can keep up the nice act for much longer."

He went to the door, turning around. The final blow of unselfish niceness. "You're always pretty, no matter how your hair looks."

 

He could feel Snow staring after him and the smile vanished from his face. A dangerous road... Better return to his old ways. 

He did, taunting Snow like he always did whenever he saw him the next day, Snow pouting and glowering like _he_ always did.

Still, come nightfall Theon found himself in front of Snow's door again, knocking a bit too eagerly.

 

The bastard regarded Theon with a dour expression. "Yes?"

Theon sighed. "You know, I really don't like you, Snow."

Snow groaned quietly in resignation. "You come banging at my door just to tell me this? Scared I got the wrong idea yesterday? Really, Greyjoy..."

Theon pushed past him. "Actually I wanted to ask... wanna practice some more?"

 

Snow snorted and rolled his eyes, then went to close his door, shaking his head.

„I really hope you’re worth the trouble.“


	2. Let all your sins come stumbling in (Theon/Robb, M)

Robb leans back in his seat. Sansa's flight was just announced late and he has to wait over an hour now. He scrolls through his phone idly, listening to the announcements with half a mind. 

 

_"The owner of the navy blue bag with white writing on it is asked to proceed to the Hugo Boss Shop immediately."_

 

Robb scoffs. People and their hysterics nowadays. The owner's probably on the other side of the shop, wondering what all the fuss is about. 

The description of the bag is repeated and this time it stirs something in his mind. A bag like this, packed for the last time, waiting at the door. 

He shakes his head. There must be thousands of that type of bag out there. He smiles to himself. Would totally be like HIM though, to just forget his bag. 

 

_"The owner of the navy blue bag with white writing on it is asked to proceed to the Hugo Boss Shop immediately. The bag will be removed by the police shortly."_

 

Robb's on his feet before consciously deciding to get up. He'll just have a look. Can't hurt.

Except that it does. It's the same bag. He'd recognize it anywhere. There's a burn hole at the side and he knows if he'd turn it upside down there'd be a smudge of green paint from where he'd put it on a freshly painted park bench when they'd been to New York. 

 

He should go. Instead he stares at the bag. Should he claim it before it gets destroyed? Who knows who it belongs to now, maybe there's something important inside. For someone it might mean much. 

When he moves to talk to the airport lady hasty footsteps approach.

"That's my bag!!!" 

Robb stills, turns, stares. So does the other man. Then his lips stretch into that familiar wide smile.

"You haven't changed a bit, Stark," Theon says.

 

Robb says the first thing that comes to his mind. "That's my bag." Theon rolls his eyes. "Not now it isn't."

They're standing in front of each other like two wary dogs, sizing each other up for a challenge.

 

"Excuse me?"

They turn their heads to the airport lady and bark, "What!", simultaneously. 

She flinches back. "Who does this bag belong to?" 

 

Robb realises he's acting like a dork, so he shoves his hands in his pockets and keeps quiet. Theon studies him for a moment before smiling at the confused woman apologetically. "My bag. Sorry I forgot it."

He moves to take it the exact moment Robb does the same, like he used to do back then. Muscle memory or something. Their fingers brush and Robb wants to bite his arm off. 

 

He pulls back. "Where are you going?" Theon doesn't look at him. "Just got here. From Pyke." 

Now that comes as a surprise. Theon hadn't been back there since his father's death, and Robb wonders what he did there now.

Hiding from someone in all likeliness. "You?" Theon's voice rips Robb out of his thoughts. "Picking up Sansa. Fuck, Theon..."

He says it with feeling and it nearly has the familiar effect, an aborted twitch of Theon's hand, as if he meant to reach out.

He doesn't, for which Robb is grateful. He doesn't want to spontaneously burst into flames right now.

 

"So. You're back in town. For how long?"

Theon shrugs. "Haven't made plans yet. See how it goes. Thought I might catch up with some people."

"Not me though?" Clearly not, considering how Theon avoids his gaze. Finally he looks up, empty smile firmly in place. "How's Snow?"

That's low, and Theon knows it is. Robb shakes his head. His own fault. Better get it over with.

"Wouldn't know. Bailed right after you left. Haven't seen neither hide nor hair of him, none of us has."

 

Theon looks incredulous. "That's over a year now."

Robb gives him a lopsided smile. "He's keeping in touch with Arya so we know he's alive."

Theon's gaze is thoughtful. "Thought he'd stick around to pick up the pieces. You know, continue what you started."

Robb groans. He's walked into this himself, he's the one who should feel bad by all means. But he's still angry at Theon. 

"Well, no. You dropped me like a hot iron on the first mistake ever and Jon..."

 

Someone shoves past him and suddenly he's aware they're still at the airport Hugo Boss shop, people hustling and bustling around them.

This isn't how he'd imagined that conversation at all. Robb peers at his watch. Twenty minutes until Sansa's flight is due, supposedly.

Twenty minutes. A lifetime wouldn't be enough. 

"Wanna go grab a coffee?"


	3. Do you want me, or do you want me to be out of this world? (Theon/Jon, M)

"What I don't get, Greyjoy, is why you would come here every day just to shit me. Isn't it a bit much of an effort just for that?"

Jon prepares Theon's coffee, resisting the urge to spit in it. 

"There's a perfectly fine coffeehouse just round the corner of your place."

Theon grins at him, that stupid, irksome grin that seems to charm everyone, except Jon. "The things I do for coffee... and there's nothing like a coffee prepared with LOVE, like you do it, sweetheart."

 

Jon wants to hit him. He wants to pour the steaming content of the cup he's holding in Theon's face. But he also wants to keep his job, so he grits his teeth and says nothing. Theon's stuck on that love-track since that one damnable night when Jon had been thoroughly hammered, and apparently told everyone present he loved them, including Theon. And everyone just passed it off as drunken babbling, except Theon. 

 

He's here every fucking day since, spending all his money on coffee and going out of his way only to make a snarky comment or two about Jon's LOVE for him. In the beginning Jon had tried to explain, point out he was saying it to everyone including the fucking lightswitch, but Theon just replied with a cheering, "I'm the only one you kissed though."

 

Jon still cringes when he thinks of that. And it's a very dizzy memory. Wasn't even a real kiss, just a quick peck on the lips. Probably resulting from Jon's wish to really be inclusive, electrical devices and all. And he and Theon have never gotten along, so it was probably meant as a proof that Jon wasn't making any exceptions. At least that's what Jon thinks he was trying to do. His memory of that particular bit is not very reliable.

 

Theon takes his coffee, lets his fingers brush against Jon's and cackles when Jon recoils. "Aww Snow, don't be so shy. I'll take you on a real date before I'll pop your cherry."

Jon growls inwardly. This is so unnerving, he really thinks of quitting, moving, out of town, out of the country, probably out of Europe. For a second he wonders how long it'll be until Mars can be colonized. 

 

Theon's waiting for an answer and Jon curses the lack of other customers, and the lack of Robb who should be here right now but isn't because he's chatting up Jon's colleague in the break room.

And then Jon has a glorious idea. He puts on a timid smile and looks to the ground. He thinks of that freaking party, which is all it takes to make him blush. He looks up at Theon shyly from under his lashes, and says in a happily flustered voice, "A date? Oh Theon! I'd love to!"

Theon stares at him, his mouth hanging open. He looks dumbfounded, like a moron, and Jon enjoys the sight so much he wants to laugh. But he stays in character. "I've never had an actual date, this is so exciting!" He talks loud enough to lure Robb out of the back, hair ruffled and lips pink.

"Jon, who you're having a - Theon?"

 

Theon stares at Robb now, a horrified expression on his face. Jon hasn't enjoyed himself as much as that in a long time. Theon seems to have found his voice again. "Are you wearing lipstick, Stark?"

Robb's cheeks flush at that and he starts furiously rubbing at his mouth. "I'm not - stop trying to sidetrack me! What's all that talk of a date?"

 

Theon swallows dryly and Jon decides to deliver the final blow. "Robb, I'm so excited! Theon's asked me out on a date, can you believe it?"

He carefully arranges his face into an expression of pure joy and Robb smiles back at him before glaring at Theon.

"Is that so. Well, good for you!" 

Jon's colleague comes out, pink lipstick miraculously intact, and Jon turns back to Theon, chirping a disgustingly sweet "Call me!", before disappearing in the back.

 

He doesn't go far, just behind the door. He peeks out again, watches Robb advance on Theon slowly. "You didn't."

Theon looks like he'll faint any second now. "I guess I did, but I was just..."

Robb is fuming. "Just WHAT, Theon? Teasing Jon, like every fucking day of his life? You've seen him, he's totally over the moon! I haven't seen him so happy in, like, forever!" Jon quietly chuckles to himself. He should think about an acting career. 

 

Theon tries to weasel his way out. "But... but Snow doesn't even like me! I don't know why he's so happy about going out all of a sudden!"

Robb is having none of it. "Maybe he doesn't like you, but as far as I know he's never had a proper date, and I swear I'll fucking strangle you if you disappoint him."

Theon raises his hands, backs away. "Alright, alright! I'll... think of... something."

 

Jon wait's until Theon's out of sight, then bursts through the door.

"Aaand... curtain! Ladies and gentlemen, I present... Jon Snow!" He bows to the empty room.

Robb stares at him, lips twitching, and Jon continues. "Also starring, in the role of the protective brother: Robb Stark!"

Jon's colleague applauds enthusiastically and Robb blushes, grinning widely now. 

 

"You evil genius! I totally believed you!"

Jon grins. "I know. Sorry, but you had to be convincing. And there was no time to clue you in. But you were grand, Theon's sweating blood right now."

Robb laughs, coming over to hug Jon. "You're going to go through with it?" Jon's smile turns a shade darker. "Of course. Serves him right for being such a pain in the ass."

 

Theon had apparently taken Robb's warning serious. Two days later he texts Jon, proposing to go see a movie, then for dinner on the next day, Friday. Jon writes back immediately, feigning joyful agreement. He'll make him pay for all the stupid jokes, literally. He and Robb are having a blast imagining Theon squirming while Jon is getting ready. 

Robb has been giving Theon shit about the whole thing for the last days. "Please, you have to wait till the end to drop the bombshell. If you can make a pic of his face..." Jon thinks it's hilarious how much Robb is into the plan. 

 

Finally he decides on his usual attire, jeans and sweater. It's not like this is a real date. He still dabs some of Robb's aftershave behind his ears. After all, Theon should think Jon is perfectly serious. When Theon honks outside, Jon skips (skips!) outside merrily, Robb following to glare at Theon from the front door. Before getting into the car, Jon turns and waves to Robb, then takes a deep breath.

 

"Hi! Thanks for picking me up, that's so nice of you! You look good!"

Theon has obviously put some thought into his outfit. Jon suspects Robb behind it and makes a mental note to thank him. This is getting better and better. Theon gives him a quick side-glance. "You, ah... you too." His ears are reddening and Jon is ecstatic. This is too good!

 

"Have you decided on a movie?" Jon asks. Theon shakes his head. "I thought maybe you'd like to. Pick one," he says formally. For a moment Jon is tempted to pick the worst chick-lit available, but then again he has to watch it too. He takes out his phone, scrolling through the possibilities. Ah! Well, he can afford to be nice that one time. "How 'bout 'Grown Ups 2'? The first one was hilarious."

 

Theon looks at him in surprise. "You like Adam Sandler? Wouldn't've thought that's your kind of humour." Jon wants to answer with a sarcastic 'you don't know much about me in general', but he just smiles and says, "We have something in common then." Theon grunts non-commitically, and Jon happily chats about anything coming to his mind for the rest of the drive. At the theatre they stop and Jon wants to get out, but Theon huffs, "Wait."

 

Curiously Jon sits back. To his eternal surprise Theon comes round to his side to open the door for him. I love you, Robb, Jon thinks while inelegantly clambering out of the car. They go in and Theon buys the tickets and rejects Jon's courteous offer to pay for the snacks. Once inside Jon has to supress a giggle when he sees where they're going to sit. Loveseat row. Really, he has to give Theon that one, he's nothing if not thorough. 

 

They sit down, not talking at all through the advertisements. Theon has already eaten half of his popcorn, eyes fixed on the screen. He's obviously pretending Jon doesn't exist. Jon really can't have that so he leans over, whispering, "I told you I never had a date before. What shall I do now? Should we hold hands? Or..." Fuck it, he decides. "Should I blow you once all the lights are out?"

 

Theon's head whips around so fast Jon is surprised he didn't break his neck. His face is hilarious and Jon giggles coyly. "Joking, you oaf. Not on the first date, or I'll get a bad rep." Theon huffs, but when Jon deliberately takes his hand, he doesn't protest or pull back. Got ya, Jon thinks triumphantly.

He says, "This is really nice. You remember my ex-girlfriend Ygritte? She was amazing, but totally not at all for holding hands. Too tame."

 

Theon nods, then asks, "What went wrong with you guys?" It's such a normal, sensible question it takes Jon by surprise. "Well... we didn't want the same things I guess. She wanted to go out and have fun and I..." The movie starts and saves him from finishing that sentence. It's hilarious and Jon forgets about playing the cute boy and just enjoys it, laughing at the jokes. At a particularly funny one Theon squeezes his hand and turns to grin at Jon.

 

"I don't get people who don't think this is funny," he says. Jon shrugs. "I know. Those frat boys... but I'm missing Rob Schneider in this one."

"I bet you five bucks he gets on one knee," Theon quotes and they dissolve in laughter. Jon can't believe it. He actually has fun. With Theon Greyjoy. Apparently miracles do happen. 

 

After the movie they go out, still chuckling about the big fight at the end. Once inside the car Theon turns to Jon. "What do you wanna eat? There's a great italian restaurant near my place."

Jon leans back. "Let's go there. I'd die for spag bol right now." Theon starts the car. "Good. Me too."

They talk about the movie and Adam Sandler movies in general all the way to the restaurant and while waiting for their food. 

 

After Jon has spilled bolognese sauce all over his shirt and they are past the second drink Jon can't believe how much he's enjoying this fake date. There's even a hint of regret that it'll be over soon. Jon finds Theon can be quite funny when he's not constantly teasing him, and he begins to understand what all those people find so charming about him.

 

The bill comes and despite Jon's protests Theon insists on taking that on as well, and suddenly Jon feels bad. He sighs, sliding the bill out of reach. "Listen, man. I can't do this anymore. It was hilarious at first but I actually had fun tonight and-"

Theon interrupts him with a lopsided grin. "No need to come clean now, Snow. I know you've been playing me." Now it's Jon's turn to gape incredulously. "But since when..."

 

"Since when do I know? Since you took my hand. I know you well enough, you're not the type to fall for someone like me. It just HAD to be fake."

Jon is mortified. "Why didn't you call me out on it immediately?"

Theon grins, and for once Jon doesn't think it looks stupid at all. 

"And thwart your game? I really wanted to see how far you'd go. Pity you didn't keep it up until the obligatory goodnight kiss. I know how much you looove to kiss me, but it would've been fun to see you squirm."

 

This statement is so familiar that Jon breaks out into laughter before thinking better of it. To his surprise Theon laughs along with him. Then he stretches to reach the bill. "I'm still paying this, so you can tell your brother to get off my back because you enjoyed your first date." Theon hesitates for a moment. "Did you?"

And Jon can't lie, not even to keep up appearances. "I did. It was really cool. I'd say, we should do that again some time, but that's probably weird."

Theon shrugs. "Why not? Your party though." 

 

Theon drives Jon home, and before getting out Jon turns to him. "Hey. I... thanks, man. I'll tell Robb you've been amazingly well-behaved."

Theon raises his eyebrows. "Snow? About that goodnight kiss..."

Jon pauses, hand on the door handle. Then he surges over, pressing his lips on Theon's. After a split-second Theon's hand comes up to cradle the back of Jon's head while he deepens the kiss. 

 

Jon breaks away, gasping for air. He stares at Theon, and Theon stares back. After a lot of staring Theon starts to grin smugly and Jon thinks, fuck. It has been a joke. He's made fun of Jon again. But then Theon leans in and kisses him again, short and sweet. "See you on Monday. I'm addicted to your coffee."

Jon can't help a small smile. "See you on Monday then." He turns to get out but hesitates again. "Actually, Robb required a pic..."

 

Robb's waiting in the living room. When Jon comes in he gets up. "Hey! How did it go? Did you tell him in the end? Jon? JON?"

Jon's walking right past him, giving a little wave on the way to his room. He can feel Robb's baffled gaze on his neck, then hears Robb's phone ping, just before he closes his door.

A muffled "What the...!?!" is the last thing he hears. 

 

He takes off his clothes and crawls into bed. He looks at his phone. Theon's sent him the same picture as Robb, of the two of them kissing, and a second message. 

"Good night. Looking forward to Monday."

Jon smiles. Funny. Yesterday he wanted to break Theon's face, and now it's all he can think of it as he's falling asleep.


	4. Tomorrow I'll miss you, but it's okay (Jon/Robb, CD)

Robb sat at his place in the Great Hall. Father gone, sisters gone, Bran unconscious in his chambers, his mother at Bran's side, Jon...

He shoved his plate away. He felt sick to his stomach. He thought of their farewell. It had been brief, becoming of the heir to Winterfell and his bastard brother, and still he'd lingered a second too long. 

 

Theon's elbow nudged him in the side. "Stop being gloomy. The bastard chose his way. No use in wasting away now."

Robb shook his head. "You don't understand." 

And really, how could he? Nobody could, because nobody knew. And he couldn't ever tell, ever talk to anyone. 

 

Jon would soon arrive at the Wall. Out of reach. Out of mother's reach, Robb thought in a bout of anger. All her fault... he sighed inwardly. It wasn't so easy. He loved his mother. And he loved Jon. He‘d always felt disloyal, no matter what he did. To either of them, to both where it concerned Theon.

 

Jon had taken that away with his leaving. Robb knew why he'd gone. Lady Stark's hatred... and Robb's love. Jon had always known. Maybe Jon had even known before Robb himself. But Jon was so much better than he was, had so much more honour... After that one time he‘d always avoided being alone with Robb, if he couldn't, he told Robb no. 

 

Of course it was easier for Jon. He loved Robb, loved his brother, but he wasn't _in love_ with him. That shame was Robb's, and Robb's alone. He cringed, thinking of that one time. How pale Jon had gone, how he'd stiffened under his touch. He'd been too kind to shove him away, but when Robb pulled back Jon‘s look had been stern, cold even. 

 

Robb shuddered, thinking how much he'd looked like their father in that moment. "It's wrong," he'd told Robb, his voice firm and cold. Robb had fled, hiding in his room until his mother had come looking for him. 

 

He'd tried again. And Jon always told him no. When he'd said he was going to take the black, Robb had cried. That had been the final proof. Jon didn't love him. And Robb had said goodbye, had hugged his brother too close and too long, trying his best not to show his broken heart.

 

Robb got up. "I'm going to bed. See you on the morrow." 

Theon shrugged and angled for Robb's full plate. "Fine. Be miserable then."

Robb stalked off. Theon really could be an insensitive bastard. He should know what it meant to be ripped from his family.

 

In his chamber he let himself fall down on the bed, the ticking creaking and rustling, like paper.

 

He turned onto his back. It didn't take long for the tears to fall and he wept, wept about the loss of his brother and his love. He turned onto his belly again, his tears threatening to choke him. The rustling really sounded like paper. He slid a hand under the fur, his eyes widening in surprise. His hand came out with a flattened scroll, with his brother's writing.

 

_"I couldn't talk to you in person, I hope you can forgive me. But I don't want to leave you without telling you what's the real reason."_

 

Robb stifled a sob. Now Jon would write how he'd left because he couldn't bear Robb's love. 

 

_"It isn't because of me. I'm a bastard, people would just nod and say it's in my blood. Or they'd say I'm trying to get you to legitimize me or something. But you will be Lord Stark, Warden of the North, Lord of Winterfell, married to a beautiful lady and you'll love her, I know your sweet heart. And I just couldn't stay, getting closer every day to just stop caring about honour. Or your mother. I'm sorry."_

 

Robb didn't understand at all.

 

_"I love you, Robb."_

 

Robb's breath hitched in his throat.

 

 _"I've loved you for a long time, and when you said_ you _loved_ me _I knew I had to go. If I'd stayed... I'd inevitably have followed my feelings, dishonoured you, our father, everything. I love you. And the thought of you will warm me in the cold nights to come."_

 

Robb couldn't believe it. 

 

_"The next time we'll meet I'll have sworn an oath, and maybe you'll be married. And I'll look at you and remember, and maybe you'll remember too, but we'll be strong and smile and love each other like we should. Until then... I love you, Robb."_

 

Robb smiled through his tears. Jon loved him. He didn't really leave _him_. He loved him. They would meet again, and Robb would look at him and see it in his eyes. Jon loved him. 

Tomorrow his absence would still hurt, and the day after. But knowing that...

Robb fell asleep, still smiling. He loved him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jon's POV on this coming up on December 14


	5. Sleep tonight on a bed made of promise (Theon/Jon, M)

Theon had overheard Jon's conversation completely by accident. He'd been in the study at his computer when Theon had come home early, headset on, talking to Sansa via skype.

"Yes, it's coming along great and all. There's just one tiny thing... okay, but don't laugh."

Theon had entered the room, meaning to make his presence known. But then he'd stopped in the doorway at Jon's next sentence. 

"I'm missing something... it's just not... I want more romance, you know? As it is... it's good, it really is, but I've been thinking that for a while now."

 

Theon had frozen. What? He'd retreated quietly and gone out again.

Now he was walking back home with two cups of coffee in his hands. Jon knew him. That was not who they where, how their relationship was. He'd known Theon for years before they'd gotten together, had known he wasn't the doting boyfriend kind of guy.

But apparently he found their relationship wanting now. And why did he talk to Sansa about it, and not Theon? But of course he wouldn't. Jon had never pressured him into anything. He accepted him, loved him like he was, Theon knew that. But apparently he still wished for something more. Romance. Right. Theon sighed. The coffee was a start.

 

Jon looked up with a smile from the notes he was reading. "Hey!" He looked at the cups in Theons hands. "Oh. You brought coffee?"

Theon didn't know why he looked so uncomfortable - until he saw the steaming cup on the table. With one quick move he grabbed it and poured its content in the sink. Then he placed one of the cups in front of Jon. "Here. Your favourite." Jon's look was pure confusion but he smiled. "Thank you! That's really sweet." Theon grumbled, then bent down to kiss him. 

 

The next opportunity presented when Jon had a late meeting with his editor. Normally he took a cab home but tonight Theon went to pick him up. Jon was talking to a woman in front of the building when he arrived. He looked surprised at seeing Theon. "Hey! What you doing here?" Theon rolled his eyes. "Picking you up? You ready?"

Jon's face fell. "Oh! I kinda promised Val we could share a cab-"

Theon had already reached into his pocket. Now he thrust a bundle of notes at the woman. "Here, Jon's share. Good night."

He went over to his car and opened the passenger door for Jon. Jon got in with a frown.

Once Theon was inside the car and they were driving, he said, "What was that now?" Theon shrugged. "Felt like it is all."

 

A couple days later when they were walking home from the pizza place Jon shivered. "Fuck, it's really cold tonight."

Theon smiled to himself. Perfect. He shrugged his coat off and wrapped it around Jon's shoulders. Jon gave him a surprised but appreciative look. "Thanks! Wow, there's a gentleman inside you after all."

Theon huffed but didn't pull away when Jon took his hand. "What's gotten into you?" Jon must've seen Theon's expression, he quickly added, "I like it, really, I do!"

 

Theon still somehow felt it wasn't enough. The occasional coffee, holding the door open, taking Jon's hand... it didn't seem much. He wanted to do something more, something grand. 

When Jon had another meeting with his publisher Theon took off work. He prepared dinner, had romantic music ready (Sinatra, of all things!), had even lit some candles. And then the overkill - rose petals scattered over the bed. Theon felt nearly nauseous, but this wasn't for him. It was for Jon.

 

When he heard the key turn in the lock he straightened, suddenly nervous. Jon came in - and stopped dead. He regarded Theon, the table and the candles open-mouthed. "Wha-?"

Theon moved his hands through his hair, then stepped over to kiss Jon thoroughly. "Just wanted to do something special for you. Cause... you know. Love you?"

Jon started laughing, his hands cupping Theon's face. "I don't know what's gotten into you... but I love you too."

 

Jon really seemed to love everything, the casserole Theon had cooked, the background music, the candles... He held Theon's hand and when Theon stood up, pulling Jon against his chest, he just smiled up at him happily. 

Theon couldn't believe himself. Here he was, in his kitchen, dancing with his boyfriend (to Sinatra, of all things!) - and it didn't even feel as horrible as he thought it would.

When Jon whispered, "Bedroom?" he was more than ready.

 

Until Jon sneezed. Then sneezed again. And again. To Theon's horror he asked, "Hey... are there roses here somewhere?" 

Theon frowned. "Uh... yeah? Like, all over the bed?" Jon laughed between two sneezes. "I'm allergic."

Theon groaned. "Why did you never tell me?" Jon sneeze-laughed again. "How could I've anticipated you'd ever get me any?"

They moved back to the living room and Theon slumped down on the couch. "I'm such an idiot! I just wanted to do something really... you know... ROMANTIC."

 

Jon sniffed. "But that's not you." Theon looked up at him. His nose was red and he still sniffled occasionaly. He looked unbearably cute.

"I overheard what you said to Sansa. About something missing."

For a moment Jon looked clueless - then he started laughing so hard Theon was worried he'd choke.

"I was talking about the book, silly. My book? The one that I'm writing just now?" 

 

Theon felt incredibly stupid. Jon sat down next to him, taking his hands. "This is the sweetest thing anyone's ever done for me. Was it very hard?"

Theon couldn't help himself, he started grinning. "Well... some of it. But other things are not so bad actually." He looked down on their joined hands and Jon followed his gaze. When he looked up again, his eyes were hopeful. "Maybe we can... continue? Some of it?"

Theon kissed him, red nose and all.

 

Later when they lay in the freshly made bed and Theon was just settling in to sleep, Jon said, "You know, you are romantic in a way. At least you do things I consider romantic."

Theon frowned. "Like what?" 

"Like when you stroke my hair until I fall asleep. Or how you always let me pick the movie. Or how I always get the last slice of pizza. Or that you always kiss me first thing in the morning when you wake up. Or..."

 

"Okay, okay!" Theon laughed. "I'm a sappy idiot alright." He huddled closer to Jon, searching for his mouth.

"Just don't tell anyone, okay? And... I might reconsider about the PDA."

He felt Jon smile against his lips.

"That would be really... romantic."

"Oh shut up, Snow!"


	6. All your fears are in your eyes (Theon/Robb, CD)

Those eyes have always fascinated Theon to no end. Blue like the sea on a sunny day.

Sometimes darker, when he's angry, or when Theon kisses him, like the sky before it gets black, after the sun has vanished. 

 

Robb says his eyecolour is boring, so many people have blue eyes.

And Theon tells him he's an idiot, because no one has eyes like Robb, maybe in colour, maybe in shape, but never in this combination, never with all those feelings.

 

Laughter, when he was with his family, then.

Anger, when there's injustice happening.

Regret, when he thinks of Jon, alone at the Wall.

Rage, when he hears the word 'Lannister'.

Love, when he looks at Theon.

 

And fear. Everytime, all the time now. No one sees it, well, maybe Lady Stark does, but certainly not his bannermen, not his soldiers. 

Theon sees it. He hates it. He wants to kill the fucking Lannisters himself, for making Robb feel fear. 

 

Robb tells him he should just shut up, he isn't afraid of anything.

Theon only shakes his head. Fear isn't for the weak, he's learned that much.

Fear is what keeps a man alive, in the right dosage at least.

 

They fight many battles, Robb taking away one victory after the other.

The fear never vanishes from his eyes, not even afterwards, in his tent, when Theon helps him out of his armour, or later when he whispers the sweetest words while trying to fuck the fear out of him.

 

It never vanishes. And it's most prominent the day Theon comes to him to say farewell. He's leaving for the Iron Islands, for Pyke, to get the Iron Fleet, for Robb.

He tries to laugh, to make a joke, how he'll have to go back to the wenches, what with Robb not being available. 

 

And Robb smacks him over the head, he smiles and kisses him, and wishes him fair winds. 

And all the time his eyes are wide with fear, and finally Theon sees it for what it is.

Not the fear of losing a war, the North, Winterfell. He fears to lose Theon.

But behind that fear there's boundless trust, infinite love, and Theon makes a silent pledge.

 

Whatever will happen at Pyke - he'll come back to Robb, ships or no ships, he'll come back.


	7. Take these thoughts and feelings to the grave (Theon/Jon, M)

Jon glances to the passenger side every other minute. He should concentrate on the road, but how could he?

How should he keep his eyes off him, when he's finally back? After all this time.

 

He's called like he was just out for some shopping, not gone for two years, asking Jon to pick him up at the main station.

 

He's changed. Much skinnier, frailer somehow. His hair is way too long and his cheeks are hollow, but it kinda suits him, Jon thinks.

He hasn't talked at all, apart from a weak, "Hey," when he got into the car.

Jon doesn't want to be the first to say something, even with all the words stuck in his throat, fighting to get out now that he's back.

 

_Why did you leave me?_

_Why did you run away?_

_I thought we were happy._

_I was happy and I thought you were too._

_Why didn't you call?_

_Why didn't you explain?_

_What have I done wrong?_

_Do you still want me?_

_Why did you stop loving me?_

_Have you ever loved me?_

_Where have you been?_

_What's happened?_

_Why have you come back now?_

_What can I do to help you?_

__What's with the gloves?_ _

_Why don't you say something?_

 

Jon keeps quiet. He drives on, looking at him over and over again, but his eyes are closed, his head rests against the window, his hands stiff in his lap.

Jon sighs, and Theon's eyes snap open. 

"Don't. I knew you wouldn't be exactly happy to see me, but... don't."

Jon presses his lips together, afraid of voicing those other thoughts.

 

_I hate you for leaving._

_I hate you for breaking my heart._

_I hate you for coming back when I am starting to alright again._

 

The last part would be a lie anyways. He says, "I still love you."

 

Theon laughs, a short, bitter sound. "Oh believe me you don't. You can't. After everything I've put you through."

Jon shrugs. He's said the worst thing he could possibly have said. It doesn't matter anymore.

He sets the blinker, turns into a parking lot, stops the car. Theon regards him suspiciously. "What are you doing?"

"Trying not to kill us because I can't focus on the bloody road. Tell me."

 

He turns so he can look at Theon properly, expectant. Theon smiles again, but it doesn't reach his eyes. "Tell you what?"

"Everything. Why did you leave? Where have you been? Why did you come back?"

Theon leans back. He doesn't meet Jon's eyes. "I wanted to go home. I didn't think about it, I just called you. You're the only one that I could call, the first one that came to my mind. And when I called you I was sure you'd tell me to go to hell. But here you are. Why?"

Jon sighs. "I just told you why. Answer my other questions."

 

Theon closes his eyes. "I left because I wasn't able to stay. Where I've been? To hell and back. Now let's get going. If you don't want me at yours I understand. I can get a hotel room. If you borrow me some cash. I'll pay you back. Once I find me a job."

Jon wants to shake him. He wants to ask that other dangerous question. _Did you ever love me?_

Instead he asks, "Did you ever think of me? While you were gone?"

 

Theon's smile has faded. His eyes are still closed. "Every day."

Jon drives on then. He really should get him a hotel room. This is too complicated.

Too much. But of course he does no such thing. He opens the door to his flat, lets them in.

And for the first time Theon smiles a genuine smile. "Hey... nothing has changed." 

He's right, of course. Nothing has changed. Not in Jon's flat, not in the way he feels.

He knows he should feel differently. Should be way more angry.

But all he wants is to close his arms around Theon.

 

He asks, "Do you want a cup of tea?" Theon nods, still looking around in amazement, and Jon sets to prepare the tea.

When he's done Theon has wandered off. Jon finds him in his bedroom, their bedroom.

He's standing in front of the dresser, his back to Jon, his shoulders shaking.

Jon carefully approaches and puts the steaming cup down, next to the pic of the two of them. 

 

The upper drawer is open and Theon's gloved hands card through the clothes in there.

Theon's clothes.

Jon hadn't been able to pack them away, then. When it had been clear Theon was gone for good. Vanished without a word, without a trace.

Theon sniffs. "Nothing's changed... As if you were waiting for me all the time."

Jon shuts the drawer. "I was." 

Now Theon looks at him angrily.

"Why? I left. I bailed. I fucked off because I couldn't bear you anymore. You and your stupid perfection. Because I couldn't give you what you wanted to hear."

 

Jon bites his lip. He never expected Theon to say it. He knows him. Had known him. Had thought he'd known him.

Theon's never said it, true, but Jon had always felt it. Had thought he'd felt it.

He says, "You're an idiot. You never had to say anything. I was happy."

 

Theon sighs. "I was too. For a while."

"Why have you come back?"

"This will sound so false... doesn't make it any less true. I missed you. This is home. Where else would I go?"

Jon wants to kiss him, but he doesn't dare. "Will you stay? For good?"

"If you'll have me. If you're such a giant fool."

Jon sniffs. "Will you run away again? Or talk to me when you feel the way you did?"

Theon's eyes are sad. "I can't promise I'll never bust a fuse again. I want to stay. With you. But first I have to tell you something."

He takes off his gloves. Oh.

 

Theon talks for a long time. Jon listens. When he takes Theon's hands, what's left, he doesn't pull back.

Finally Theon sighs. "If you want me to leave now I understand."

Jon looks at him in disbelief. "Leave? Have you lost your mind? I dreamed of you coming back for years, and now you are..."

"Look, Jon... I'll never be what you deserve, not then, not today, not tomorrow. Now even less than before. But..."

Jon kisses him then, shuts him up thoroughly.

"You came back. That's all I need to know. And I'll say it. I'll say everything, all the time, enough for both of us.“

He takes a deep breath. „Love you, love you, love you..."

 

Theon laughs, kisses Jon again, sinks into his arms. 

He'll never say it, he just can't. But he feels it. He's home.


	8. All I breathe is the air that you share (Theon/Robb, M)

It starts as a nice gesture. Robb is stressed, and stressed Robb isn't somebody you want to be around. Besides, it's breaking Theon's heart, the purple bags under Robb's eyes, his shoulders nearly hunched around his ears, the tired half-smile he tries to give, despite how anxious he really is. And even though it's over now, the contract signed and everything as he wanted it to be, Robb is still tense, not himself. So Theon comes up with the massage appointment.

 

He doesn't know what he's pictured anymore. Tiny girls walking around on their backs maybe. Or a blonde valkyrie kneading them like dough. Or maybe even some guy with hands like hams, removing all those knots and aches from Robb's shoulders, knocking him out so good he'll leave with a blissed-out expression, thanking Theon for this marvellous idea, giving him that special smile.

 

At the moment Robb's not smiling. He's looking confused as hell. The woman greeting them looks like right out of Battleship Galactica, and not the good kind. But it isn't her appearance that startles Robb, it's the words that she says.  "Welcome to your couple's massage." 

Theon still thinks it must be a joke, or maybe just a rather clumsy term the lady has for this. But they're beckoned to sit down, opposite each other, crosslegged on a thick matress on the floor. 

 

Robb sits down, still looking confused but with a hint of amusement on his face. He tugs at Theon's bathrobe. "Come on. You got us into this, now we're going to see it through."

Theon slumps down.

"I didn't know. Sorry, man. I swear I had the best intentions."

It comes out gruffly, the embarrassment taking over. Embarrassment and anticipation. 

"Place your hands on your lover's neck."

Robb grins. He's definitely amused now and Theon wants the floor to swallow him. 

 

When that's not happening, he loosely wraps his fingers around Robb's throat. He can feel the pulse fluttering under his fingers and it's maddening. Robb smiles even wider, apparently immensely enjoying himself.

"Do you want to kill me or massage me?" he asks Theon. 

Theon looks aside. He's getting flustered, he can feel the heat in his cheeks. But he lets his hand glide down to the spot where the shoulders begin. 

 

He presses his fingers into the skin. He can feel the tension there, and he really wanted to help to begin with, so he does it again. Robb moans. The sound sizzles through Theon like an electric shock. He nearly drops his hands, but the lady chooses that moment to materialise behind Robb, placing her hands over Theon's. 

"Yes, very good. Release those negative flows, feel them slip away."

 

And Theon can feel it, the tension in Robb's shoulders eases, they're slacking a bit. The lady steps back and Theon does it again, and again, kneading Robb's neck and shoulders as if he's paid for it. It's him that pays though, for every time another knot disappears Robb moans like a porn star, and Theon is glad for the wide bathrobe. It's hell. At least, he thinks, it can't get any worse. 

 

"Now you switch." 

Theon stills. No. But Robb smiles again, looking truly angelic now. A picture of innocence. His hands are already reaching out. Theon goes rigid when they come up his neck to cup the sides of his head, fingers pressing softly against his scalp. He closes his eyes. This is hell. Something warm brushes over his face and he opens his eyes. All he can see is blue, and for a moment he's confused.

 

Robb has leaned forward and they're close now, closer than they've ever been before. Theon inhales carefully. They're breathing the same air now, and he doesn‘t want to move, maybe ever again.

"Relax," Robb says with a laugh, and the sound washes over Theon's face, he's drawing it in with his next breath, wants to trap it. Robb's hands slide down to his shoulders, warm and dry and addictive, and Theon melts under them.

 

It's over much too soon and they leave, Robb relaxed with a soft smile playing around his lips, Theon tense like never before. Robb turns to him once they're outside. 

"Thanks, man. I really needed that." He studies Theon's face. "You okay?"

Theon nods. If he'd open his mouth now he couldn't guarantee for what would come out. Robb stops, smiles, comes closer. Theon's heart beats too fast. 

 

And Robb notices, places a hand on Theon's chest, leans in, whispers.

"If you wanted to touch me so badly, you could've just done it."

Theon stares at him with wide eyes, they're so close again. Now Robb's hand tangles in Theon's hair and he smiles, that radiant smile that draws Theon to him like the good old moth to the flame. 

If he has to burn to be close, he thinks when their lips meet, it's worth it.


	9. These candlesticks turn molten wax, and so are we (Theon/Jon, CD)

Theon woke up feeling warm for once. Bloody Winterfell. Summer snows, Drowned God!!

He stretched, turned - coming face to face with a sleeping Snow. He was the heat source, radiating warmth like a hot brick. Maybe that was why Theon had fallen asleep, something he vowed he'd never do.

But seeing as he was here already...

 

He got up, feeling his way around. The glow from the hearth was the only light in the room, apart from the moon outside, shining on Snow's frowning face, scowling even in sleep.

Theon rolled his eyes while lighting a couple of candles. Snow wasn't so ugly he had to fuck him in complete darkness, but sometimes Theon wished he would laugh. Or smile. Or even look blank, instead of glowering at him all the time.

 

It had its perks of course. Theon never had to deal with clingy behaviour or sad eyes when he left after a fuck. Snow just glared at him until he was out. Sometimes Theon asked himself what the bastard might think, but not too often. Most of the time he didn't care, as long as Snow's bed was there to welcome him on particularly cold nights.

 

He carried the candles over to the bedside table. It really was ice cold, but it would be a waste to build a big fire when they would get up in a few hours anyways, so Theon slipped under the covers, huddling tight against Snow's toasty skin. Just like Theon had hoped it woke the bastard.

 

He blinked, stifled a yawn and rubbed his eyes. Then he regarded Theon with narrowed eyes. 

"What you still doing here?" 

Theon shrugged, as good as he managed in his position. "Fell asleep is all."

Snow's scowl deepened and Theon wanted to smack him. Wasn't it nice to wake up to the sight of him? Apparently not.

"Aye, I know," Snow muttered. "But I'd've bet all my money you'd wake up and piss off soon enough."

 

Theon grinned. "Wouldn't have lost that much, would you? Anyways, I thought seeing as I was here we could fuck again before dawn. And I'm cold, and you're hot."

The bastard had the nerve to scoff at that gracious offer. "Who says I want to be fucked twice in one night?"

 

Now Theon rolled onto his back. "Actually... maybe you could fuck me this time."

This finally had the desired effect. Snow was so surprised he forgot about looking angry. "What? How?"

Theon laughed at his baffled expression. "My arse may not be as well trained as yours, but for _your_ cock it should be enough."

 

Snow looked down into his lap. Being a boy who woke up to another naked body... of course he was hard. He looked back up at Theon, his upset bewilderment so comical Theon chuckled. "I'm japing, Snow. It's a very fine cock you have there. Really. Nice and pretty enough and not too thick, it'll fit perfectly."

 

Snow was staring at him. The corners of his mouth twitched. Theon looked closer, squinting. "Was that... did you just smile, Snow?"

"No!!" Snow vehemently shook his head, but his lips were still stretching, as if on their own will. Theon watched in fascination.

"Woah. That has to be a first. Was it the compliment for your cock? Because I can give you more of THAT, it's so sweet and pink and hard and-"

 

Snow's smiling mouth came crashing down on Theon's, taking him by surprise. They seldomly kissed, Theon thought it was too affectionate and Snow never seemed to mind. But now he kissed Theon hungrily, open-mouthed and with such ferocity Theon had no choice but to kiss him back. 

 

Snow's tongue was everywhere, he explored Theon's mouth so thoroughly, it was all Theon could do not to moan like a wench at the sensation. Finally Snow broke away, gasping for air, and Theon stuck out his own tongue, touching his nose with the tip and peering down at it. Snow watched him with a bewildered expression. "What are you doing?"

 

"Checking if my tongue's still there. I was afraid you might have swallowed it. Not that I'd mind." Theon reached out and smacked Snow's chest. "Where'd you learn to kiss like that?"

Snow grinned. Really, Theon thought, he could get used to the sight.

"Meg. The gardener's daughter?" 

 

"Ah." Theon dimly remembered hitting on that one, without success. Seemed too shy to know how to kiss like that. Dark horse, that wench. And Snow... "Thought you weren't after the girls."

Snow huffed. "Thought I'd take every help I can get to take YOU on, what with your bragging all the time."

 

Theon was sincerely touched. "Aw, how sweet of you. What else did you learn?"

Now the smile faded from the bastard's face, Theon was sorry to see.

"You won't like the rest we did."

Theon pondered that. "Well, obviously you didn't fuck her, what with that bastard-thing of yours. If she blew you - you know very well that I like THAT. So what can be so perverted you two did that I won't like?"

 

Snow looked at him from under his eyelashes, cute bastard. "I could show you?"

Theon turned onto his side, genuinely curious now. "Shock me, sweetling."

Snow regarded him for a moment. "Don't say I haven't warned you." He proceeded to stretch out beside Theon. 

 

Theon watched him, waiting for his next move. The bastard reached out tentatively and cupped the back of Theon's head, drawing him onto his chest. He shifted until Theon was tightly snuggled in his arms. One of his hands took Theon's while the other started softly stroking his hair. 

 

Theon lay completely still. Of course. Of course the bastard would cuddle with a girl he'd made out with. He shouldn't be surprised. And he really shouldn't enjoy it so much. Snow was right, this wasn't something Theon would've ever done. But now... He closed his eyes. It's for the warmth, he told himself.

 

The candles had melted down to stumps in pools of wax and the sky outside was beginning to lighten when Theon woke up again, this time from warm lips against his head. He felt strange. Warm. Content. That wasn't good. "Hey." Snow's voice above him, sounding unsure instead of annoyed for once. "Do you... do you want to fuck again before we have to go to break our fast?"

 

Theon thought about it. He could fuck Snow, fuck that nonsense right out of him. Or he could tell Snow to fuck him. Or he could... 

"Nah," Theon said. "We can fuck later in the armoury if you're up for it. For now... just don't move."

_Let me enjoy this before I am myself again._

Snow said nothing for a long time, but when he did, Theon was sure he heard a smile in his voice. "Whatever."


	10. A summer breeze through your arteries (Theon&Robb, CD)

Winterfell is cold. It's hard, and cold. Theon is a soft boy, has always been. Maybe that's why father has given him away, he thinks.

Because he's not hard enough. Theon has tried, many times, but he could never match his brothers.

 

And now he's here, and it's so bloody cold. He sits in a cold room, on a cold bed.

There's a fire going in the hearth, but it seems to burn behind a bubble, not able to penetrate the coldness that seeps through his clothes.

 

The Lady has given him new clothes, proper northern clothes. The Lady is cold, too.

The Lord is a monster. He's killed Maron and Rodrik and now he's taken Theon from his home. And father let him.

Theon cries. He didn't in front of the others, he's too old for that, but now he’s all alone and can do whatever he pleases. So he cries.

 

The Lord has told Theon he's to live here now, as his ward. Theon knows he really means prisoner.

If father does anything wrong, Theon will be killed. He has seen the Lord's big sword. Ice.

 

Even the names here are cold.

 

There's a boy with a cold name. He's younger for sure, he looks absolutely tiny.

His name is Snow. It means he's a bastard. Theon snorts derisively through his tears.

At home the bastards are called Pyke, like the castle where he lives.

 

Lived. Now he lives at Winterfell, another cold name. 

 

Outside there's snow on the ground. It's summer! There shouldn't be any snow!

For a moment Theon wishes he had a dragon, like the Targaryens long ago.

 

He could melt all the snow and he could burn this cold place down.

 

His house sigil is a kraken. He's never seen one, but it's a kinda useless animal.

It can only help you when you're at sea, and the sea is miles and miles away.

 

Theon stifles a sob. He misses the sea, the sound of the waves and the salt in the air.

 

Many days go by. The Lady is still cold. The Lord is stern, but he's nice to Theon.

This place isn't home, too cold. But he has a new brother.

 

Not Snow, the pouty little bastard with his tiny pinched-up face. Snow is a nuisance. 

 

No, Theon's new brother is Robb.

 

Robb is the Lord's real son. He's smaller than Theon, of course, he's younger.

His head looks like a fluffy raspberry sometimes when the sun falls on it.

His round eyes are blue, like the sea on a good, sunny day.

He has freckles on his nose and when he laughs, Theon feels a lot warmer. 

 

Robb is really nice to Theon. He sits with him at the meals, ignoring the Lady's cold stare towards Theon.

He isn't at all like the other Northerners.

 

He's like summer, like a warm wind, and Theon hopes they'll always be brothers.


	11. Wait till the morning, we'll be fine (Theon/Jon, M)

"Idiots," is Robb's only comment when Jon has broken his self-written set of rules again. The rules are easy, really:

 

_\- Don't drink too much Tequila._

_\- Don't vanish with Theon in the bathroom._

_\- Don't suck his dick._

_\- Don't go home with him._

_\- Don't let him get to you when he's sobering up and gets nasty._

_\- Don't go whining to Robb about it._

 

The last rule is Robb's, and as per usual Jon has broken them all in one go, and Robb can't hear it anymore.

Later Theon will call him with a similar lament. Bloody idiots. 

 

Jon is in his room. He has the king of all hangovers, and his jaw hurts, and his stupid heart hurts, too.

He can hear Robb talking outside, probably on the phone with his girlfriend.

Jon feels like the biggest idiot alive. Robb is right.

 

Theon babbles about a thousand nonsensical things before he comes to the point.

Robb's voice sounds impatient, but maybe that's just Theon's imagination. 

 

"So... how's Snow?"

"As usual after you've thrown him out. Moping in his room."

"Oh. Okay. Well, tell him-"

"I won't tell him anything, you big coward. Mend your stupid mistakes yourself!"

 

Huh. Robb has hung up. He never does that. Maybe Snow's been getting on his nerves. Surely not Theon.

Mistakes. What mistakes? Theon doesn't have to feel bad about anything.

Snow knows the deal. Come in, come, get out. But Theon still calls Robb the next day, to tell him to tell Snow he didn't mean to be so harsh.

And then the next time will be just the same, because after fucking Theon always gets panicky and mean.

Theon sits up. Maybe he has an idea.

 

Another party, another round of tequila shots, and Jon's eyes are scanning the room.

Where is he? Already in the bathroom? That'd be practical. He decides to go outside instead of searching for Theon.

Maybe some fresh air will clear his head and he'll stop at breaking the first rule today. 

 

No such luck. Theon is sitting on the porch, bottle of Jack next to him, cigarette in his mouth, hair ruffled, open leather jacket...

He looks like your typical bad boy and Jon wants to jump him. He clears his throat.

 

Theon looks up, smirks. "I was wondering how long it'll take you to find me."

Jon doesn't answer. He tries not to talk too much when he's with Theon, in case he says something unforgivable.

Like, I like you. Like, likelike you. 

Theon gets up. "Let's go."

 

Despite the bottle being half empty (Jon always goes for half empty) Theon doesn't seem drunk.

He goes ahead, Jon tottering after him like being pulled by a string.

Theon's place isn't far, but Jon is shivering when they've reached it.

He looks down. Of course, he forgot his jacket. Bloody idiot.

 

Theon takes one look at him, rolls his eyes and goes to retrieve a blanket, wrapping Jon up in it.

"Can't have you sucking my cock when you're chattering like that. You'll bite it off."

Jon wants to answer something witty, but all that comes out is, "I like you."

 

Deadly silence fills the room. The bomb has detonated. Jon closes his eyes. _I'm dreaming, I'm dreaming, I'm dreaming..._

Theon's gruff voice rips him out of his mantra. "Why don't you stay the night? You can fuck me in the morning."

 

Jon's eyes snap open. "Huh?"

Theon doesn't look at him. "You're drunk. I'm drunk. Just..."

He sighs, rubs the back of his head. "Just repeat that in the morning."

Jon hiccups. _Oh..._ He's a terrible drunk, getting all emotional, but he can't fight back a hopeful smile. 

 

Theon looks up, sees Jon smiling.

 

It's a bit watery, he seems on the brink of crying, but it's still cute, so Theon thinks, fuck this, and he goes over and kisses him and later they'll fall asleep and Theon won't get a bitchy post-sex-fit, because they won't have sex, and tomorrow Jon would still be here, and maybe it was going to be fine.


	12. When the daylight arrives we are swept off our feet (Theon/Jon, CD)

Not his house. Not his RIGHT! Theon is still fuming, hours after that incident with the wildlings. Robb had talked to him like... like... he stops, pants. He's working himself into a state, he knows he is. But he just feels so hurt. He'd just wanted to help. Help him decide to do the right thing. And the right thing is to hit back at those that have murdered Jory and the others, and wounded Lord Stark. Damn the Kingslayer. Damn the Lannisters. 

Robb has to act, call the banners before it's too late, before they do something worse. He just wants Robb to become the man he's supposed to be. A short, hard smile wanders across Theon's face. He's killed his first man, Robb. Just a wildling, but still. Without Theon though... he's saved Robb's ass. And Bran's. _Not his right..._ The rage comes back full force. Outside it's dark already. He decides to talk to Robb.

When he nears Robb's chamber the door is open and he can hear voices. Snow, of course. He'd stayed in the castle today, with Rickon. Theon feels a little smug about it. He and Robb killed those men, while Snow was looking after a toddler. Some ranger he'd been if he'd really gone to the wall. Shame Robb had convinced him to stay. Theon would've loved to be rid of his sullen face for good. And now he's in there, probably telling Robb how good it was of him to tell Theon off. 

 

"Really, Robb... if everything went down like Bran said it did..."

"It did. He could be dead now. Just a few inches to the left-"

"Never. Stop being an idiot about it."

_What?_

Robb echoes Theon's thought. "What?"

Snow's voice is tired, but firm.

"Greyjoy saved Bran's life. And yours on top if the wildling had been fast. And you tell him he didn't have the right to do it."

Snow sighs. "Robb. He loves you. He loves Bran. You're his brothers. He had every right in the world to try and save him. You. And you go and scold him for it. Ungrateful sod."

 

Theon holds his breath. Snow never talks to Robb like that. Robb seems baffled too. 

"Jon. He could've KILLED our little brother!"

This seems to anger Snow.

"Why on earth would you think that? Greyjoy's the best archer I've ever seen. He would never have missed. What was your plan anyways? Stare the wildling to death? If the deserter wasn't lying there's worse blue eyes out there than yours."

 

Now Robb gets angry as well.

"Are you comparing me to a Walker?"

"You've shown as much brain as one of their soldiers today," Snow retorts dryly.

Theon chuckles soundlessly. Those Stark boys... firm believers in Old Nan's stories. Walkers and wights and all... But then Snow speaks again and Theon creeps a step closer to listen.

"Bran said you and Theon were fighting before he was caught by the wildlings. What was that about?"

 

Theon grits his teeth as Robb answers. "He told me I should call the banners. Start a war."

It's quiet for a moment before Snow talks. 

"You know... I think he's right. They wounded father. They killed Jory. And they... Robb, they have our sisters. Arya, Sansa. When father is better he might be glad to find the Northern army already on its way. Father would-"

"You don't get to decide that. _I_ am the Lord of Winterfell in father's absence, not you, _Snow_!"

 

For a moment it's eerily quiet. Theon thinks his heartbeat will give him away any second now. Finally Snow breaks the silence. 

"You come off your high horse, _mylord_. And stop pushing away the only people you can trust."

Robb's answer is a sneer. "Since when do you trust Theon?"

" _I_ don't have to. Besides, I do trust him as far as that I believe he wants you and Bran to be alive enough not to be careless with an arrow. Or anything else."

 

Snow pauses. When he goes on he sounds even more tired. "Tell him you're sorry. Or at least thank him. I will at the next opportunity. Bran too. He's having a little hero-crush on the both of you right now." 

There's a smile in his voice, and Theon smiles too. Tough little lad indeed. He'll visit him tomorrow.

Robb's voice sounds astoundingly meek.

"You really think I was wrong?"

"For giving him shit for wanting to save father and for actually saving you? Uh... yes?"

 

Snow's voice sounds softer now. "I know there's a lot on your shoulders right now. But we're here to help you carry it. If you let us. Mylord."

He says the last bit without any hint of sarcasm as far as Theon can tell. There are shuffling sounds and a chair is dragged over the floor. 

"I'll better get going. Sleep well, Robb. Talk to Greyjoy tomorrow. And... think about what he said."

Theon hastily retreats into the shadows as Snow comes out of Robb's chamber. He doesn't see him, just walks down the hall.

 

After a while Theon sneaks away. He can't talk to Robb now. His world has been turned upside down today. Robb behaving like an utter arse, and the bastard standing up for him, for _Theon_. Maybe he should go and talk to Snow, seeing as they were on the same page for once. Theon turns to go to the bastard's chamber. He knocks, but no reaction. Where is he? After a fruitless search everywhere he can think of, Theon pauses in the yard. The sky isn't so dark anymore, the sun will rise soon. He's spent his whole night fuming and eavesdropping and searching for Snow.

 

He's just decided to leave it when he sees a glimmer of light, up in the broken tower. Got you, he thinks, smiling to himself. He makes his way over, climbs the stairs. Snow is sitting on the floor, a candle in front of him. He seems to be deep in thought and starts when he sees Theon.

"Greyjoy? What are you doing here?" He shakes his head. "Nevermind, I wanted to talk to you anyways. To thank you. For Bran, and Robb. Thanks."

Theon drops down next to Snow. "'Twas the right thing to do."

 

Snow smiles weakly, a sight Theon isn't used to. "It was. Bran told me everything. He says it was a masterly shot."

"Well... yes, it was." 

Snow rolls his eyes and Theon grins. He just can't help himself. He bumps his shoulder against Snow's companionably. "You know... thank you, too."

Snow raises an eyebrow. "What for?"

"Talking to Robb like you did. Standing up for me."

Snow has gone bright red in the course of one second. "Did you lurk around? You weren't supposed to hear that."

"Well, I did. And to tell the truth I am completely surprised. Have you forgotten we hate each other?"

 

Snow looks astonished. "I don't hate you. Maybe I don't like you too much, but I don't hate you. You're a good man. You'd do anything for Robb, and I'd trust you with his life any time."

He pauses, looks down onto his hands. 

"And you have my respect. I always thought you're more talk than anything, but you are a skilled archer."

He grins all of a sudden.

"Maybe I have to believe _all_ your stories now."

It lightens the solemn mood considerably and Theon laughs. "A hint between the two of us: don't believe _every_ story."

Now Snow laughs too and it amazes Theon how much he actually enjoys his company when he's like this.

 

Maybe he acts out of the wish to solidify this new-found comradry. Or maybe a part of him is still hurt from Robb's words.

And maybe it's because Snow's the only one he thinks can understand how he feels. Being of Winterfell, and not being of Winterfell.

Theon doesn't ponder his reasons, he acts on impulse. His leans over, his head comes to rest on Snow's shoulder. Snow is completely still and, encouraged, Theon's hand creeps over to tangle their fingers together.

 

They sit like this for a long time, quiet, not moving. The sun has started to rise in the eastern sky and they should go break their fast soon, but Theon doesn't want to move. 

When the sunlight finally hits the window of the tower and floods the room, he looks up into Snow's face. 

"Snow?"

"Hm?"

"I don't hate you."

Snow doesn't answer. He carefully pulls his hand away from Theon's, but only to wrap his arm around Theon's shoulders. Snow doesn't look at him, he stares ahead, cheeks flushed. 

 

Theon feels like he sees him, really sees him, maybe for the first time. He's steady, a rock to lean on, to rely on, he'll always have their backs, no matter what. And suddenly Theon thinks, they need him. Robb needs him. Theon needs him. Needs to... 

He lifts his head, brings a hand to Snow's face, turns it to him. 

"I'm glad you haven't gone to the Wall."

And then he kisses him, doesn't know how else to convey what he wants to say, his gratefulness that there's someone who's on his side. And Snow lets him, doesn't shy away. And, oh...

 

With the sunlight on his face and Snow's lips on his, Theon thinks, that maybe, maybe... it was going to be alright in the end.

They would convince Robb, they would march south and get the girls and Lord Stark out of that lion pit, and Lord Stark would see that Theon truly is giving everything for the Starks.

And then they would return home, and they would sit here again and think back to this day, and maybe Snow would kiss him again, would make him feel like he belonged.

And maybe that day he finally would.


	13. Fill all our shelves with dreams and romance (Theon/Robb, M)

"And here I want the whole wall for the books. Up to the ceiling." Robb pauses in his musings when he sees Theon's face. "What?"

Theon tries to phrase it carefully. "You know this is just a tiny one-room flat and not the library in a castle, yes?" Robb rolls his eyes. "Spoilsport. What would you want to put on this wall?"

 

Theon ponders that for a moment. Not gigantic shelves that make the room even smaller. "Pictures. Of us. Of your family. Maybe Asha if I find a non-threatening one. The one where Snow has fallen into his birthday cake."

Robb chuckles. "You mean the one where you've shoved Jon into his birthday cake."

 

Theon grins. Good times. Robb is still studying the bare wall. "That's actually a nice idea. But where shall we put my books?"

Theon groans in exasperation. Robb just doesn't get it. "At your parents'. Where there's space."

Robb pouts to that. "And everytime I want a certain book I have to drive over to them?"

 

"Or, you know, you could walk? It's three blocks!" Theon tries to soften his voice.

"Listen. When we have a bigger flat some day, with an extra room, I'll install you your own little library. With a cosy armchair and a bar globe and a fireplace, and I'll build you shelves across all four walls and you can stuff them to the brim. Promise."

 

Robb smiles dreamily. "Will you bring me tea and my slippers?"

Theon huffs. "No?"

Robb doesn't look too bothered. "Can we have a sheepskin rug in front of the fireplace and fuck on it?"

This has Theon grinning. "Now we're on the same page."

 

Robb takes his hand and sits down on the naked floorboards, dragging Theon with him. "And our kitchen?"

"Will be a separate room, not like here. A kitchen with all modern fittings, and I'll make you full breakfasts and healthy lunches and romantic candlelight dinners. Because we'll have enough space for a dining table, we won't have to eat on the couch anymore."

 

Robb smiles, his eyes are shining. "Tell me about our bedroom."

Theon wraps his arms around Robb. "We'll have a kingsize bed of course. The bedroom theme will be ocean world, because you already have the library. We'll paint the walls in a deep, dark blue, match the curtains and the bedding. We won't have a stupid cupboard, we'll have a walk-in wardrobe, for all the fancy outfits you'll need for work."

 

Robb has closed his eyes and leans against Theon's shoulder. Theon continues. "And all the furniture will be pale wood, and above the bed we'll have a huge mirror - hey," he protests when Robb smacks him over the head. "Okay, fine. No mirror. But we'll have a giant TV in the bedroom so you don't have to drag me to bed when I've fallen asleep."

 

Robb looks up. "I like doing that. Makes me feel like your knight in shining pyjamas." Theon laughs and kisses Robb's head. "Won't be necessary in here. The couch's the bed." Robb sits up. "Do you mind very much? That we can only afford this shitty, tiny hole? It's my fault after all. I should've gotten myself some job instead of playing intern in Baratheon's firm."

 

Theon looks at him in despair. "We talked about this. One year as an intern will open you all the doors in the PR world. And you're going to love it. Besides, my job at the pizza place isn't forever anyways. We'll bite through, get this year behind us and then we'll see what happens. Hey..."

He strokes a stray curl from Robb's forehead. "We don't have to do this. You could always stay at your parents'."

 

Robb shakes his head vehemently. "Nuh-uh. I'm sick of not having you with me every night. I'm sick of Arya making kissing noises at us at breakfast. I'm sick of you and Jon fighting over who gets to shower first. And I'm sick of sharing you with all of them. I want you all to myself. There. Am I selfish?"

 

He looks defiant, but also a little worried, and Theon kisses his nose. "Yes. You're an entitled little shit. All the more reason for me to love you. So you really don't care? That our couch is our bed and that we only have two hot plates and a microwave? No oven?"

Robb purses his lips. "We can wish for one of those mini ovens from my parents. Or we just eat take-away."

 

"And what about having no separate toilet? It's next to the shower. Isn't that weird?" 

Robb shrugs. "Only if you decide to take a shit while I'm in the shower."

"And we don't have a carpet. Your feet will get cold."

"We'll ask Sansa to make us a nice rug as her next home economics project. Until then I'll wear socks."

 

Theon laughs, he can't help himself. "You have an answer to everything. So it's really cool? We'll move here together?" Robb nods, a smug expression on his face. "Entitled little shits tend to get what they want, and I want you. And one shelf. A small one. For my favourite books?"

His smile is so wide and innocent Theon helplessly raises his hands. 

"Fine. You win."

Robb wiggles his eyebrows. "Do you think we could pretend we have a fireplace and a sheepskin rug if I put my coat on the floor? I feel like celebrating our new flat."

Theon's hands are already opening Robb's shirt. "One day we'll have the rug. And the fire. Until then..."

Who needs a fire anyways? He always warms him up in no time.


	14. My lips are dry, your grip is tight (Jon/Robb, CD)

Jon felt sick. It was his blood, he was sure. His mother had probably been some shameless whore, and she had passed her wantonness on to her son.

Even worse, he wasn't lusting after girls, this would've been somewhat normal at least. 

 

For a second he tried to picture himself as a second Greyjoy, chasing after nearly every skirt in the whole of Winterfell. He shuddered. And if it had to be boys, why not _any_ boys? He thought of Greyjoy again, he was handsome enough and seemed to know what he was doing, according to his many stories. 

 

No. Jon was sick. A sick, perverted bastard, lusting after his own brother. He'd always known he loved Robb, had always admired him, followed him everywhere, tried to be like him. But for some time now Jon caught himself staring at Robb, at his lips, his shoulders, his hands... imagining things...

 

Last time in the Godswood, when soaking their aching muscles after sword practise... How the water had run down Robb's neck, over his chest, his stomach... Jon had touched himself that night in bed, thinking of his brother, spilling with Robb's name on his lips. He hated himself for it, but he couldn't stop.

 

And Robb had to be noticing something was wrong. Jon often saw Robb looking at him with a strange expression. He cringed at the thought of Robb finding out about his perversions, his dishonourable thoughts. Good, pure Robb, a true Stark, their noble father's heir. If Jon hadn't loved him already, he'd hated him.

 

That day it was really cold. Greyjoy had declined joining them at the pools, probably advancing on some prey in a corner somewhere by now. Which meant Jon was alone with Robb and his magnificient nudity. He endured it for the better part of an hour before the thoughts became unbearable, his hardness too obvious. He made to leave.

 

Robb's hand caught his wrist. Jon turned, expected his brother to frown, to scold him for his obvious shame. Robb wasn't frowning. His eyes were dark, his mouth half-opened, he looked dazed and flushed. The heat of the water, Jon told himself. His hand on Jon's wrist was scorching, so hot Jon was sure it'd leave a visible mark.

 

Robb pulled on Jon's arm and he stumbled against his brother's chest. A jolt was running through Jon's body, he tried to retreat, but Robb's arms held him tight. He bent his head, lowered his mouth onto Jon's. 

Jon was melting, summer snows under a too strong sun, colours flashing behind his eyelids. It was everything Jon had ever wished for, had never dared to hope for. He couldn't have broken away if he'd wanted to.

 

It was Robb who pulled back, looking at him with a soft, hopeful smile. It broke Jon's heart what he had to do. 

"This is wrong. We're men... and we're brothers. It's wrong. We cannot do this ever again." 

Robb had left him at the pool, probably fleeing into his chamber. Jon cried himself to sleep that night. Not Robb. He couldn't bear to dishonour his brother, his best friend, his love. Robb had to remain good. 

 

Over the next months Jon tried to avoid being alone with Robb. When they were, despite his caution, he acted cold and stern. It didn't deter Robb from trying to take his hand, brush against him, touch him... Jon said no every time, the word growing weaker and weaker, Jon's willpower dissolving in Robb's soft, pleading gaze. 

 

The king was coming. Uncle Benjen would come to the feast, and there Jon saw the right path, a way out. He'd leave. He'd join the Night's Watch, go as far north as he could, preserving Robb's honour... and what was left of his own. Fate played into Jon's hands. His father was to leave with the king and without him Jon had no place in Winterfell. Everyone knew of Lady Catelyn's disdain for him, no one doubted his reasons to leave Winterfell.

 

After Jon had said farewell to Bran he went to gather his few belongings. Suddenly the thought was unbearable, leaving Robb in the belief he didn't love him.

Jon made a decision.

When he hugged his brother for the last time he thought about the letter he'd hidden in Robb's bed. He hoped it would explain everything. He hoped it would let Robb feel how much he loved him. 

Jon rode out of Winterfell with his brother's name in his heart.


	15. I paid with heart instead of money, and weakness was my tip (Theon/Jon, M)

"Pizza is coming."

Theon blinks. Woah, that one doesn't like his job. That has to be the sulkiest greeting he's ever heard. "Hi there. I'd like a large seafood pizza with extra cheese, please."

The voice on the other end sighs and huffs, asks for his adress and ends the call with a curt, "Twenty minutes."

Theon looks at his phone in consternation. He really hopes the pizza will be good at least.

 

About half an hour later the bell rings and Theon goes to open, slightly miffed. It's been definitely more than twenty minutes and he's fucking hungry and - in love. The guy at his door is so pretty, despite his sour face, that Theon wants to fall to his knees immediately, beg him to come in and never leave again. But he just stares. The guy sighs heavily. "Seafood pizza? Extra cheese? Something the matter?"

It's the guy from the phone and Theon has to suppress a very unmanly giggle. He's just so CUTE!!! But now he's definitely getting annoyed so Theon fumbles for his wallet, giving him twice as much as he owes. The guy frowns. "That's too much." Theon is ripped out of a particularly enticing thought, namely burying his hands in pizza guy's incredibly soft looking curls. "Oh. Uh. You keep it." 

Pizza guy's frown only deepens at that and Theon suddenly wants to lick that frowning mouth. Oh god.

"Thanks." With that the guy turns and Theon nearly screams. "Wait!! What's your name?"

The guy looks back, cooly raising one eyebrow. "That's none of your business." He hesitates. "Jon." And then he's gone and Theon's pizza gets cold while he looks out on the street long after Jon's gone. Wow. 

*** 

Jon's sporting an unusually deep frown upon his return and Robb immediately jumps into protective-brother-mode, even though they're only cousins. "What's up, man? Anyone give you shit?"

Jon rolls his eyes. "Just some dude staring at me like I have two heads or something like that. Generally weird I suppose. Has a squid door knocker on his front door."

Robb shuffles through the receipts. "Seafood with extra cheese? How fitting."

The phone rings and Robb picks up. "Hello there, Pizza is coming, what can I do for you?" He listens for a moment, then covers the speaker with his hand.

"That's him!!" he mouthes to Jon, then talks into the receiver. "I'm sorry, was there anything wrong with it?" He laughs. "Wow, you must be really hungry! Noted. Twenty minutes. Thanks, bye!"

He hangs up and regards Jon's annoyed expression. "What?"

Jon shakes his head. "Know what, employee of the month? You go this time."

***

Theon opens the door, ready to haul his prepared speech at Jon, "Hey man, sorry for-" He stops dead in his tracks. "You're not Jon." The tall guy smiles and Theon's knees go weak.

"No. You're very perceptive. Hey, you have a squid on your door!" Theon's head is spinning. "Kraken," he corrects weakly.

Tall guy shrugs. "Whatever. I'm Robb, and here's your pizza. Sorry it was a bit longer than twenty minutes, seafood takes more time, but we're supposed to say it anyways. But in the end pizza is always coming. Get it?" 

Theon takes the pizza box, puts it on top of the other one still sitting on the table, then gets out the money, double again. He's going to go broke over pizza. Robb takes it. "Wow, thanks! Hey, what did you want to say when you thought I was Jon? I can tell him." Theon actually blushes and immediately hates himself for it. He's behaving like a teenage girl.

"Oh. Ah... nothing."

***

Robb comes back, chuckling to himself. Jon looks up. "What." Robb pats his shoulder. "Someone's got a crush on youuu!" Jon huffs. "Bloody likely. Especially after you've been there too now. Did he stare?" Robb nods gravely. "And blush and stammer. He thought I was you and wanted to say something, but he wouldn't tell me what it was. Hey," he nudges Jon's shoulder. "He's quite cute actually. I say go for it." 

 

Jon stares at him in exasperation. "First, no? And he's a customer. That's weird. Besides, I bet he was just high or something. I mean, who can eat two large pizzas? Surely not that guy. Have you seen how skinny he is?" Robb howls with delight. "You totally DID check him out! Come ooon, what's the worst that could happen?"

Jon shrugs. "Just forget it."

***

Theon is lying on his couch. He's had cold pizza for breakfast and lunch and he should really cook something healthy tonight. But all he can think of are the pizza guys. He couldn't tell which one looks better. Jon with the brooding expression, that _mouth_ and the curls... or Robb, similar curls, only shorter and kinda reddish, but those _eyes_... Maybe the universe finally wants to make up for the crap that was his last relationship.

Theon sighs and grabs his phone. Cooking never really stood a chance. While it's ringing he asks himself who he wants to pick up. He doesn't have an answer for that. 

"Pizza is coming." 

Theon shoots before he can think better of it. "Oh, hello grumplestiltskin."

There's a short silence, a shuffling noise somewhere in the background, then Jon is back, panting a bit. "Yes? _Please_?" 

Theon grins. Customer service is really not Jon's forte it seems. "I'm in the mood for vegetarian today. What are my options?" There's a huff on the other end. "Go read the menu." A scandalized voice in the background shouts out, "Jon!!!"

Jon sighs into the receiver and Theon feels goosebumps prickling over his skin. "Fine, fine!" He starts reeling off their veggie pizzas as fast as he can, and Theon just picks the last one. 

"Twenty minutes."

***

"Really, Jon. You can't talk to the customers like that. If uncle Brandon hears that..." Jon snaps back. "Well, he's not here, is he? And sorry, but that guy is just a pest." Robb's eyes widen. "Oooh, squid guy? He must really have a thing for you." Jon groans. "Would you please stop? The guy's a stoner for sure. He called me grumplestiltskin - _would_ _you_ _stop_ _laughing_?" 

Robb wipes his eyes. "Sorry, sorry. But that's too good. And so true!!!" He tries to compose himself. "But still, he's a customer. So you'll take that lovely pizza and drive over and be polite and smily." Jon rolls his eyes but takes the keys and the pizza. Robb's cheery shout follows him outside. "Go get him, champ!" 

Jon drives over, silently fuming. When he arrives he deliberately uses the squid door knocker instead of ringing. He figures maybe the guy won't hear it because he's baked and he can just leave again. Alas, the door flies open not even a second after he's knocked and squid guy is smiling at him widely. 

"Wow, today was quick!"

Jon wants to hit something. _Customer service, customer service_. "Yes. We try to be. Here's your pizza. Enjoy." He holds it out and plasters a grimace on his face that he hopes could pass for a polite smile. Squid guy stares. Jon waits, getting agitated again. "What." Squid guy blinks. _Oh bloody hell._ "Know what? This one's on us. You paid enough yesterday." Jon just wants to leave already. 

***

Theon tries to form a coherent sentence. Jon is shifting restlessly, probably to get back to the pizzeria. Shit, Theon thinks. There's just not enough time to do anything. He takes the pizzabox, cursing the size of it. He can't even accidently touch Jon's fingers without looking like a total idiot. Jon is already turning to go and Theon panicks. "Wait! Uh... wanna go for a drink?"

Jon looks at him like he's lost his mind. "Can't. Work." With that he's gone and Theon wants to kick himself. Wanna go for a drink _some_ _time_ , idiot. He goes to put the pizza in the kitchen. He's not even hungry. Theon studies the menu of the place. Open until 11pm. There's a thought. If he orders at quarter to eleven... Maybe he could get him to come in. 

"Hello there, Pizza is coming! What can I do for you?" 

Oh, okay. Happy guy. Robb, Theon remembers. Well. No complaints. 

"Hey there. Could I get a large peperoni please?" Theon rattles down his adress and to his surprise Robb laughs. "Oh it's you! I fear it's only gonna be me, I'll drop your pizza off on the way home. Jon's already gone. Do you mind terribly?"

Theon swallows. "Oh no, that's... that's fine. Thanks."

He hangs up and slaps his forehead. This one seems to take great delight in his inclination for Jon. And he's a lot nicer than Jon. And very handsome. But Jon... Theon sighs. The universe is a bitch. Throwing not one, no, two gorgeous guys his way. And the guys are working together and probably friends. Fantastic.

*** 

Robb texts Jon before closing the pizzeria.  

 **Robb:** Hey! Squid guy called again, anything I should tell him?

The answer comes immediately.

 **Jon:** Yeah to fuck off

 **Robb:** You're nasty. Maybe he's your true love and you scare him off?

 **Jon:** Yeah sure. Try not to get killed if he turns out to be Dahmer 2.0

Robb shakes his head. Jon's such a pigheaded idiot, he wouldn't recognize an opportunity like this if it was dancing naked in front of him. While he drives over to squid guy's place he ponders if there's anything he could do to help. When squid guy opens the door, instead of just giving him the pizza, Robb shuffles past him into the kitchen. 

He eyes the untouched vegetarian pizza from earlier and turns to face the guy who's blushing furiously. "Sooo. Hey, what's your name? I keep calling you squid guy in my head."

This has squid guy smile. "Theon."

Robb extends a hand. "Nice to meet you. Well, _Theon_ , what interest do you have in my cousin?"

***

Theon reels back. Cousin? Fucking fuck. He looks up at Robb. He's really gorgeous, but Jon... "No? I mean, nothing. Well, yes, but... oh what the hell." He grins lopsidedly. "He doesn't like me anyways." Robb cocks his head to the side. "Know what? I wouldn't be too sure 'bout that. But we can find that out real quick." He proceeds to take out his phone and texts something. A second later the phone buzzes and he squeals. "Ha! Knew it. 

Robb holds out his phone, and Theon reads:

 **Robb:** Hey, squid guy and I are making out on his couch.

 **Jon:** Asshole

Theon opens his mouth, but all that comes out is an incoherent sound. Robb is already texting back. "I'll tell him I'm joking. But there you go, someone's jealous. How do you wanna go 'bout this?" 

Theon tries to form a sentence that makes sense, but the best he comes up with is, "Uuuuhhh..."

Robb nods. "Thought so. Okay, here's the plan. You keep calling late. Needle him a bit, that's perfect. Makes him think about you. And when I happen to pick up I'll shamelessly flirt with you so he gets jealous again. And then I'll say he has to drive. I'll find an excuse. And I'll tell you when he's ready for the taking and then you ask him out. Comprende?"

Theon nods, completely stunned. Stunned, but hopeful.

*** 

Jon starts to dread work. Squid guy (Theon, Robb calls him when he's drawling seductively into the phone) calls every fucking night. And every time he's got another stupid nickname for Jon. Grumpy cat. Angry bird. Thundercloud. Today's was sourplum and he's said it with a fake scottish accent, so it came out as soor plum, and Jon finds he's grinning despite himself. 

If he's entirely honest... it's not the nicknames, or even driving over to squid guy's house. Squid guy is actually fun. And handsome. Jon sighs. Maybe it's got more to do with the fact that Robb's trying to get him a pity-fuck again, from his own rejects and leftovers. Story of his life.

Jon prepares to leave with the chili pizza squid guy ordered tonight when Robb calls him over. "Why don't you go home after that one? I can handle the rest myself, no need to come back."

Jon nods. "Thanks, man. See you tomorrow."

He has no time to ring or knock, squid guy's already waiting. Good. Jon is hungry and wants to go home. But squid guy beckons him in.

"Could you do me a favour and put that on the kitchen table? Thanks."

Reluctantly Jon steps inside, doing as he was bid. Then he looks at squid guy expectantly. He stares back. Jon sighs. When squid guy finally says something, it's, "I'm really sick of pizza." Now it's Jon's turn to stare in bewilderment. "Oh-kay? Why do you keep getting pizza then?" 

The guy smiles. "So I have a reason to talk to you." Jon scoffs. "You mean Robb. Tall guy? Blue eyes?" He imitates Robb's flirty voice. "Oh Theon, you are SO sweet. No, YOU hang up!"

Squid guy grins. "Hey, you know my name. Robb says you still call me squid guy." Jon shrugs defiantly. "You have one on your door. And one on your hip."

Squid guy... Theon's eyes widen. "How do you know that?"

Jon blushes. "The other day, you stretched and... stop grinning!"

But Theon doesn't stop, his grin only widens. "Do you want to go out for a drink on Monday? I know you guys are closed Mondays and Tuesdays." 

Jon's mind goes blank. What?

Theon takes a step towards him. "Or a bite to eat? Come on, misery guts."

Jon slowly recovers from his shock. Robb wasn't trying to cheer him up. Or throw him a bone. The guy _really_ likes him. But why? He looks up into a hopeful face. And suddenly he's smiling too, because he likes _him_ , not Robb. Theon wants to go out with _him_. 

Jon looks down on the table, on the pizza box sitting there. "How 'bout we share this nice pizza?"

Theon just groans. Happily.


	16. Let each breath fill the darkness (Theon/Robb, CD)

Robb pushes at the door and sighs in relief. He's been so sure it would be locked... He shuffles into the dim room, carefully closing and locking the door behind him. There isn't any movement but Robb knows he's awake. He approaches the bed carefully, stripping down as he goes. When he crawls under the furs he's completely naked, pressing tightly against the warm body beside him.

Theon doesn't stir. Robb lets his hand slide forward over Theon's chest, but it is slapped away. He places a wet kiss on Theon's neck. "Fuck off, Stark." His voice sounds magnified by the darkness.

 

Robb sighs. He knew this was going to be hard. He kisses Theon's neck again, pressing his hard cock tightly against Theon's buttocks. Theon's stiff as a plank and Robb whispers in his ear. "Hey... I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said those things. I was just so upset. We came so close to losing Bran not long ago... I just flipped."

He kisses the sensitive spot on Theon's neck and he shivers out a breath. "I know you'd never fail your mark. Hey..."

 

Theon shifts, turns around so they're nose to nose. "You were right. It was a risk. I just didn't think, he had Bran and your sword was on the ground ant the thought he could hurt you... I couldn't _not_ act."

He kisses Robb lightly on his lips, then shifts back, gently removing Robb's hand from his cock. "I, ah... I'm sorry. I'm tired. Let's speak tomorrow, alright?"

With that he turns his back to Robb again. Robb frowns. What was that just now? Theon never turns down sex, never. Not once since they started doing this.

 

Robb had been so sad that night, with his fathers and his sisters leaving, Jon leaving as well, Bran on the threshold of death, his mother a griefing shadow by Bran's side. The responsibility of being acting Lord of Winterfell so soon... He'd sneaked into Theon's bed that night, seeking comfort like when he was a Boy, when having bad dreams. He found so much more than comfort though... Robb sighs when he thinks back to those first touches, how amazed he'd been at every little thing Theon had done to him, had shown him.

 

There hasn't been a night since that first one where Robb hasn't come to Theon once the castle's asleep, and Theon has never turned him down. His arms have been always welcoming him, his Body always ready for Robb. Until now. A surge of anger rushes through Robb. He's apologized, hasn't he? Theon shouldn't be like that. Maybe he _is_ tired though, Robb thinks. It has been a long day, and Theon has killed his first man too, as far as Robb knows. Maybe he's sad his father couldn't see him.

 

Robb thinks of Balon Greyjoy. He has never seen the man, and Theon doesn't speak of him often, except when he boasts about being his last son and heir. Theon is still proud to be a Greyjoy, even if he's a lot more like them now, more like the Starks-

Robb sits up abruptly. He thinks back to the afternoon, to their talk before Bran had disappeared. He hears himself, his voice cold and spiteful. "It's not your house." Oh. _Oh_.

He remembers Theon's face when he said it and his chest tightens. Fuck.

 

He lays down again, wrapping himself around Theon's stiff form. "I'm afraid," he murmurs. "I'm just so afraid. I'm just a boy playing lord, and you were talking about war, and I was afraid. And I hurt you." 

Theon's voice is muffled. "Aye, you did."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to."

Robb places his hand on Theon's shoulder, turns him around. He reaches out, softly touching Theon's cheek. His skin is cold. Robb shuffles closer, his hand wandering to Theon's back. He pulls him against his chest, kisses him. 

 

After a moment of hesitation Theon's lips part and Robb deepens the kiss, gently licking into Theon's mouth. Theon sighs, shifts even closer. Robb smiles against his lips. "Let me make it up to you." His hand wanders down, wrapping around Theon's cock. It makes him moan quietly. Robb loves this sound. But now he doesn't want to just make him moan, he wants to make Theon unravel. Robb reaches out over Theon's shoulder, dipping his fingers into the well of lamp oil.

 

Theon watches him with confusion. It only deepens when Robb slicks Theon's cock instead of his own. Robb uses the element of surprise and pushes Theon onto his back. His eyes grow wide when he realizes what Robb's about to do. "What..."

Robb shushes him, lets himself glide down. It's a good thing Theon's not as big as he is, otherwise this would never work out. Robb hisses when he feels the head press against his hole. For a moment all he feels is searing pain as he's breached, his first time to be invaded by something else than his own fingers. 

 

He waits, pants, and Theon asks, "You okay?" Robb nods, the sharp sensation is fading and Robb starts to lower himself. Theon hisses, his hands come up to Robb's hips, holding him, guiding him until he's fully sheathed on Theon's cock. A shudder runs through him and he starts to move. At first it still feels strange, but then Theon bucks his hips and Robb's head falls back, sparks explode behind his closed eyes and he gasps. Theon does it again and a long moan escapes Robb's lips. He pants, his hands roaming over Theon's chest, clutching at his shoulders as he rolls his hips.

 

He'd meant it to be for Theon, thought it would be uncomfortable at best, painful at worst. He hasn't expected the waves of pleasure rolling through him, one after the other, until he doesn't hear the noises he makes anymore. Suddenly there's a swift motion, the world is spinning and then he's on his back, Theon hovering over him, eyes glittering. Robb lifts his head, searches for Theon's lips. He kisses him and Theon kisses back as he pushes into Robb again. He's panting too now, beads of sweat forming on his brow. 

 

They seem to melt into one another and all Robb can think of is, _yes_ , this is how they are meant to be, how _he's_ meant to be, giving himself completely to the one person he trusts more than anyone else. He clutches his hands in Theon's hair. "Gods, Theon..."

Theon groans, he speeds up his thrusts, one of his hands coming up to grip Robb's cock tightly, he angles his next push and hits _something_ , and suddenly Robb's coming harder than ever before. He cries out and Theon tenses, arching his back and Robb feels wet warmth splatter his insides. 

 

For a moment the world stands still and all Robb is aware of is Theon's heartbeat against his chest, and his own. Theon's lips find his and Robb loses himself in the kiss. They stay like this for a long time, until Robb is sure Theon's fallen asleep. "You belong," he whispers. "Your name may not be Stark but you belong. To us. To me. I know you just want what's best for me." He waits, but there's no answer. Good. It means he can say what he wants to say the most. "I love you."

***

Theon's eyes are closed. He's lying completely still, trying to compose his breaths to be steady and calm. But his heart he can't possibly control. It's singing with joy, and hope. Nothing more is said, but what's been said is enough. His breathing calms down on its own, he can hear Robb's, permeating the night. Here is where he's meant to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, basically an alternative version of ch 12 :)


	17. I'm tired of being tongue-tied (Theon/Jon, M)

Jon tries to take his hand. AGAIN. 

"Cut it," Theon hisses, flinching back. "You know very well-"

"Yeah, yeah." Jon actually rolls his eyes, insolent bastard. "I know. No one must know, you're single, I'm just your... What am I again?"

He raises his eyebrows questioningly. Theon glares. "My assistant."

"Oh yes. Glamorous. Theon Greyjoy's cocksucking assistant."

Theon wants to strangle him. "Stop. Shouting. That." He clenches his teeth. "You never know who's listening. Or watching." 

Jon looks him up and down.

"No one's gonna recognize you. You look like a bum with that jumper. And that hat," he adds, entirely unimpressed.

"Not to mention that beard. Looks like a couple of hamsters died on your face."

Theon tries not to smile. "Oh shut up. Let's go home before I can't resist the urge anymore to throw you under a bus."

Once inside the taxi Jon is all over him. The driver keeps glancing at his mirror and shaking his head.

Theon laughs helplessly when Jon opens his belt with hurried movements. 

"Baby, what's gotten into you? Is it the hamster-beard? A minute ago you were completely underwhelmed by my appearance. Or is it the whole secrecy?"

"Fuck the secrecy. I swear to Godzilla, if you don't do it soon I'll do it myself. I'll climb to the top of the Empire State Building and shout it into the world. Well, maybe I'll take the elevator. And I'll wear a tee with that pic of us at Disneyland. And I'll hand out flyers. Theon fucking Greyjoy isn't single, he's got a boyfriend for over six years and to hell with all the fangirls." 

Jon takes a deep breath. Theon stares at him. He doesn't talk that much in a month, normally. Maybe it's really getting to him. After nearly six years... He deserves it, Theon knows that much. And he's sick of the secrecy too, but it just isn't the right time.

His TV series relies on his huge fanbase, consisting to ninety percent of women. 

Theon plays a young successful lawyer who's also a vampire, a little embarrassing maybe, but the ratings are great and it puts his name out there. The series has been running for six-and-a-half years now, and Theon’s contract has just been renewed. He sighs. He still has to tell Jon. Another year in secrecy.

They’d met at a concert when the series had still been in its beginnings. Nobody recognized Theon when he went out, and certainly not Jon. When he’d told him who he was, Jon hadn’t even known what he was talking about.

„Vampires?“ he’d said with a sneer. „The good ones, like Blade, or the bad, pansy ones?“

„Pansy,“ Theon had confessed, and Jon had laughed. „Nevermind, you’re still sexy.“

Later when they were really together-together Jon had insisted on watching the whole first season in one go. Theon thought he’d die of shame. It really was abysmal… Jon had laughed so hard he nearly cracked a rib, kissing Theon everytime he kissed someone on screen.

They stuck to that ritual, and in the next season, when Theon’s character had sex… Theon smiles. In that regard the new season that's coming out just now is the absolute winner. 

Still, he hates having to hide Jon. Theon has discussed and fought over the topic a million times with his agent.

„No way, njet, non, nein, la. When the series is done you can do what you want. But the girls out there want you to be available. If you’re a) taken and b) gay, you aren’t.“

Theon often thinks about getting another agent. Not really, of course, but it is still horrible.

And tomorrow he has to visit the Comic Con in Boston and smile and make selfies and be available. And Jon will brood in the background, counting the kisses Theon receives and giving him hell afterwards, then later he'd fuck him so hard he'd forget his own name and all the crap that came with it. 

But tonight it's just the two of them. Tonight they'll order chinese and watch Netflix and abandon the film halfway through to fuck, and it'll be cosy and wonderful.

And tomorrow they'll have to go out, just two guys working with each other again.

Theon thinks of the flight, how he'd love to make out with Jon to make him forget about his aviophobia. Jon really hates flying, he always makes himself as small as he can in his seat, sweating and trembling and all. One time Theon’s stupid agent had sat them apart and Jon had been half-dead when they finally landed. Never again.

Theon just longs to be able to take Jon’s hand, to let him know all will be fine, that he's there for him. As it is, all he can do is whisper innocent things. And sext him a bit, to take Jon’s mind off of them being on a plane.

***

The con is completely overrun and Theon feels tired. All he wants to do is go home and fall asleep in front of the TV with his head in Jon's lap. Maybe eat a pizza first, or a nice hot tikka masala. Or a doner kebab. Instead he's here, answering the same questions as last time. A blushing girl is next, and Theon already knows what's to come.

He smiles at her expectantly. „Yes?“ 

"Are you still single?" Then she bursts into a fit of giggles.

He inwardly rolls his eyes. He really likes his fans, but sometimes he wishes they would stop. Or think of something more original to ask. His gaze wanders to where Jon is standing next to Theon’s agent, arms crossed, eyes narrowed. When he feels Theon looking at him he relaxes a bit, a tight smile playing around his mouth. He nods slightly. Theon can almost read his thoughts.

_Go on, do it. I know it’s not your fault._

Theon opens his mouth to utter his usual answer, still searching for the right girl, blablabla.

Out comes, "Actually..."

His agent stiffens. He catches her furious gaze. She mouthes something at him - and Theon chooses not to understand.

Not this time. He looks back at Jon who's watching him with a bewildered expression now. Theon smiles. 

"I'm in a relationship."

The crowd stills. Then everyone is shouting questions all at once.

Theon is still looking at Jon and slowly people start looking in the same direction. Jon is flushed bright red and Theon grins, delighted with his coup. Better than the Empire State Building, that much is certain.

***

"Could you please stop that?" Jon tries to get his hand out of Theon's grip.

Theon holds on tight, grinning menacingly. "Oh no, baby. You wanted it, you got it."

Jon starts to jump up and down. "But I have to pee!" Theon grumbles but lets go. "Never satisfied, huh?"

Jon sticks out his tongue, turning to leave for the shopping center’s bathroom. "Love you!"

Theon shouts after him. "Theon Greyjoy loves you too!"

Heads turn in their direction, cell phones are whipped out. Theon doesn’t care.

It feels good to say it out loud. 

***

To everyone’s surprise (and his agent’s chagrin) the ratings don’t plummet. They skyrocket.

A while later Jon is on his laptop while Theon is lazing on the couch. All of a sudden Jon roars with laughter.

„Oh. My. God. You HAVE to read this!“ He comes over, carrying the laptop with him.

„Look at that. It’s a site for fanfiction. And there’s TONS AND TONS of fanfic about your character…“

Theon smiles. „That’s good, isn’t it?“

Jon isn’t finished. „…doing it with the evil vampire boss.“

Theon shoots up, grabs the laptop. „What now?“

And really, story after story. PWP. He looks up at Jon. „What means PWP?“

Jon grins. „Click and find out.“

Theon does. His eyes grow bigger and bigger as he reads the story (is it a story when there is absolutely no plot?)

The THINGS his character does in that one…

Jon is still grinning. „And your character doesn’t even like this other character."

Theon protests when Jon takes his laptop back. „Hey, I wanted to read that!“

„Nuh-uh, not before I have read everything I’ve bookmarked for later. And there’s a looot. Some of it is really good.“

Theon rolls his eyes. „Just don’t get any ideas. I’m not sure some of the things I’ve just read are humanly possible.“

Jon purses his lips. „Oh you big old coward. We could at least try.“


	18. And it tastes like home (Jon/Robb, CD)

Warm lips are on his. 

This in itself is strange enough. 

There's no one here that would kiss him. 

No one he would let himself be kissed by. 

The kiss feels familiar.

He doesn't resist. 

He doesn't open his eyes. 

The lips turn into a smile against his mouth, like they've done so many times before.

They whisper the sweetest words.

The voice is the same, tender and loving.

The kiss deepens, and he opens his mouth.

He welcomes him in like he always did.

Too soon that other mouth draws back, and he wants to cry at the loss. 

Then soft kisses are placed on his cheeks, his closed eyes, his forehead.

It feels warm, and he never wants to open his eyes again. 

When he opens them there will be nothing but coldness. 

Nothing but nothing.

The lips return to kiss his mouth again.

He feels gentle touches, like hands cradling his face.

Another whisper, his name. 

_"Jon. Jon. Jon."_

It's time to go, but he doesn't want to.

A last deep kiss.

It tastes like summer snows, like too much wine at a feast, like the air in the godswood, like the thousand kisses they've shared before. 

And it tastes like home.

He longs to see him so much, the impossible blue of his eyes, his warm smile.

A brush over his fingers, a goodbye.

_"I love you."_

 

He wakes up alone, confused, naked… but he remembers. How they killed him. How he was dead. How he saw…

When the Red Woman asks him what he saw... he can't tell. Not her. Not anyone. 

"Nothing."


	19. The embers of our fire (Theon/Robb, M)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is kinda the prequel to chapter 2

Nothing is the same. It feels like it was only yesterday that Robb has thought himself the happiest person alive. Loving family, nice flat, good job, and the love of his life at his side.

Now everything is wrong and twisted. And it's Robb's own fault.

 

He shouldn't have gone to the party alone after their fight.

He shouldn't have drunk so much. He never can handle his drink. 

He shouldn't have danced with Jon.

He shouldn't have taken Jon home. 

He shouldn't have fucked Jon.

He shouldn't have fallen asleep in Jon's arms.

He shouldn't have told Theon right away, with Jon's scent still lingering in their sheets.

 

Robb thinks of Theon's face then. A moment, a second of shock and hurt, so much hurt Robb wanted to scream.

Then Theon had blanked. Total pokerface. He'd packed a bag, Robb's bag.

Neither noticed in that moment, Robb crying and pleading, Theon cold as marble.

Now that he's gone and left him behind, Robb feels something else beside the ever-present pain.

 

Anger. At himself, mostly. But also at Theon. 

 

They could've talked.

They could've tried.

 

Theon has made many mistakes in their time together, small ones, bigger ones, and Robb has forgiven them all.

Sansa says Theon has gone because he thinks Robb's mistake is a confirmation of his thoughts.

That he was never good enough. That he was never worth it, Robb's love.

Robb thinks it's bullshit. Before his mistake he's shown him, in every possible way, how much he loves him.

 

Loved him. Loves him. Everything is wrong. He doesn't want to visit his parents, they know of his mistake.

 

And Jon - his cousin! - has vanished off the face of the earth. A part of Robb is glad, another misses him. As a friend, as family.

The mistake didn't happen because he loves Jon like _that_. It happened because he was drunk and hurt and vengeful and impossibly stupid. 

 

He's seen him once more after he left. Theon. About a month after. Theon had come to pick up a few things. Robb had been home.

Normally he wouldn't have been on a Saturday afternoon with sunshine and all. But he was.

 

And when he'd seen him the cool mask had slipped and Theon had let Robb hug him and kiss him and everything.

But it had felt wrong. Not like before, roaring passion and overwhelming love, like a laugh stuck in your throat, like a heartbeat too much in your chest.

 

Robb has ruined it all and Theon has gone away for good.

Robb is angry. If he'd really loved him, they would have found a way.


	20. Kiss me with those tired lips (Theon/Robb, CD)

"So you'll marry a Frey girl."

It's not a question, and Robb doesn't answer. Theon paces up and down, trying to contain the raging jealousy. Finally Robb answers. "What's it to you?" He sounds tired, resigned. There are new lines on his face, lines he shouldn't have at his age, and Theon loathes them. He has been so eager, so eager to go to war, so eager for Robb to call the banners... 

Now, when he sees him like this... For a moment he wishes them back, back to Winterfell and their boyhood, back to squabbling over petty things, back to sharing a wine skin at feasts, back to practice in the yard, back to lazy soaks in the Godswood pools, back to those drunken first kisses.

 

Robb has changed the second his father left. He's a lord now, every inch of him. There are so many others that demand his attention. And there's that unknown Frey girl. Stealing what he's got left of Robb. He hates her, hates the war, hates the Lannisters, hates the whole world. Except Robb.

It'd be easier if he could hate him too, but that's not going to happen. Nobody who knows him can hate Robb Stark, Theon is sure. He's loved him from the day the tiny redhead welcomed a frightened boy with a gap-toothed grin, trying to ease him into his new life.

 

Robb's pale now, fair skin so white the few freckles on his nose are clearly visible. Theon knows each and every one of them, could draw them with closed eyes. The dark eyelashes cast shadows on his cheekbones, more prominent since they've gone down south. His mouth is pulled into an exhausted frown and Theon would give everything to turn it around, make him smile like he did when they'd knelt on his bed back then, seconds before those lips touched his.

 

He continues his back and forth through the tent, until Robb raises a hand. His sigh is heavy, his eyes clouded. "Please, Theon. Stop it." Theon stops. Robb leans his forehead in his palm, his shoulders shaking. He's not crying but he looks like he wants to. Theon goes to kneel before him. The only Stark he'll ever voluntarily bend the knee to. 

 

"Hey," Theon says, voice as tender as he manages. "Remember that time when we played war and coaxed Snow into playing the fair maiden and you married him after you'd beaten me?"

Robb chuckles, looks up. "He wouldn't speak to me for a moon after that."

Theon smirks his best, careless smirk. "Marrying a Frey girl can't be worse than marrying Snow."

 

This has Robb smile for real now, and he reaches out, caresses Theon's cheek for a glorious moment. He wants to pull his hand back, but Theon captures it, presses a kiss into Robb's palm. Robb's eyes crease, there are new lines there too, but those make him look happy. "You're incorrigible."

 

Theon gets up, moves to sit at Robb's side on the cot. He cradles his head in his hands, and Robb lets him. Lets Theon pull him down until he's leaning against his shoulder. Robb shudders out a breath and slowly relaxes. He tilts his face and Theon meets him halfway, kisses that taut mouth, again and again until it relaxes too, becomes soft and pliant.

 

"First you'll win the war. Then you'll marry the Frey girl. And I..."

Robb smiles. "You'll be at my side until it's time for you to rule the Iron Islands."

Theon doesn't want to think of that day. He doesn't want to be anywhere else, ever, than where he is now. Close to Robb. But he smirks and nods.

 

"If the Frey girl is too ugly..."

"Yes?" 

"You just take her from behind and pretend it's me. Care to practise that a bit? I could squeal like a girl for you."

Robb sits up, shoves Theon back, finally laughing. 

"What would I do without you? If I weren't so tired..."

 

He stifles a yawn and Theon's overcome with a gentleness he doesn't experience often. "There's always tomorrow. Now rest, Stark."

Robb's eyes are already closing, he's still firmly wedged in Theon's embrace.

"Will you stay?" he asks when Theon carefully lowers him on his back.

"Forever," Theon says. 

Robb's already asleep, but he still smiles.


	21. Give me fire and illusion (Theon/Jon, M)

Theon looks up from the register to inspect the newcomer. There's something familiar about the solemn face, the dark hair and the grey eyes. It takes him a moment before it hits him. "Aren't you Robb Stark's cousin? You look a lot like his dad." The man blushes, then looks at him again closely. "Theon Greyjoy. I should've know this is a Greyjoy business when I saw that Kraken on the door." Theon searches for the man's name. He's seen him often enough when they were kids but Theon's family had moved away when he'd been 16 and that had put an end to his friendship with Robb Stark.

"Was it James?" The man huffs. "Still a prick, huh? Jon." Theon slaps himself on the forehead. "Of course. Jon Snow. Hey, don't blame me, man. It's been, what, fifteen years?" He remembers something else. "Weren't you always such a pussy? Running away from girls or even stories about girls?" Jon rolls his eyes but doesn't answer, seeming uncomfortable. Theon leans forward and stage-whispers, "You know you're in a BROTHEL, right?" 

Jon's cheeks flush hot red and Theon thinks how cute it makes him look. Has he been this cute back then? He can't remember. Jon Snow sighs deeply. "Lost a bet with my mates. I have to fuck someone here tonight, so can we please stop the small talk and get down to business?" He's grown even redder and Theon finds it extremely endearing. "You're no virgin, Snow, are you?" Jon's eyes widen. "I'm twenty-nine!!!"

Theon raises an eyebrow questioningly and Jon splutters, "No, okay? I did have a girlfriend. For, like, nine years? But she's dumped me last year and the guys say I have to have a casual fuck to get back on the horse again and that they're sick of me moping around and they said I'd never dare to come here and... well, I'm here. Now show me what you got." He tries to put on a serious look and Theon nearly laughs out loud. "Go sit in the bar and have a look. I'll send you my crème de la crème." 

Jon shoots him an angry glare but trots along like a pretty, well-behaved boy. Theon looks after him, catching himself staring at Jon Snow's butt. 

Half an hour later he's close to just give it up. Seven of his best girls have advanced on Jon but he hasn't shown interest in any, not even Ros. Theon's at his wits' end. He walks over to the bar, swinging himself on the stool next to Jon. "Look, dude. This isn't how this works. You have to pick one of them. I don't have an endless supply." Jon pouts at the words (quite a sexy mouth, Theon notes) and shakes his head. "They're all beautiful and everything but it's just... none of them feels right." 

Theon studies Jon's face and places a gentle hand on his thigh. "I think you'll lose your bet if you wait for a whore to _feel_ right." Jon glances down at Theon's hand, then up into his face and suddenly his eyes aren't so solemn anymore. There's a smoldering look in them and Theon feels something hot pool in his stomach. _Oh_. "Are you for sale too, Greyjoy?" Jon whispers. "Can I buy you... a drink?" Theon stares at him. "Don't play with me, Jon. It's been such a long time I might feel compelled to take your offer." 

Jon smiles for the first time since he came in. "I'm perfectly serious. Reckon you can leave your post for... let's say two hours?" Theon swallows. Two hours... doesn't Jon overestimate himself there a bit? Still. He's curious. And horny. He calls for Ros. "Be a darling and take over for me, love?" To his surprise she drags him aside and hisses in his ear.

"Are you out of your mind? Remember what happened the last time you went with a client!" Theon shudders. As if he could ever forget _that_. He smiles for Ros' sake and shakes his head. "Nothing like that, sweetie. I know that one from before." Ros rolls her eyes, but she lets go of his arm. Theon kisses her on the cheek. "You're a doll. If Ash calls or god forbid shows up just tell her I'm sick or something."

He strolls back to Jon who's ordered two long-island iced teas. Theon takes them. "What do you say, shall we take those drinks upstairs with us? By the way, no need to get me drunk, I'm going with you voluntarily." Jon shrugs, his pretty face sullen again when Theon leads him upstairs. "Welcome to the junior suite!" He pushes the door open with a ceremonial gesture but Jon doesn't smile. He follows him inside, glancing around. "So... is this  _your_... establishment?" Theon laughs. "Unfortunately - or thankfully - not. It's my uncle's, but he's away at the moment and I'm filling in for him." Jon nods. 

When Theon has closed and locked the door Jon turns to him. "What was that about you going with another client? You do this often?" Theon looks at him in bewilderment. "Are you Lee Majors? Or a bat? How could you have heard that?" Jon doesn't answer. Theon sighs. "Just that once. And it wasn't pretty." He looks at Jon and grins, trying not to show his nerves. "There goes my boner. Can we talk of something else? Or not talk at all?" With two quick paces Jon has crossed the room and has Theon pinned against the wall, pressing his crotch against Theon's " Good thing mine's still there then." And it's not a lie, Theon can feel him, straining against his tight jeans. He reminds himself that while Jon is the client ( _his_ client?), Theon is calling the shots, and he brazenly cups the bulge in Jon's jeans. "A good thing indeed," he purrs, trying not to feel ridiculous. Jon hisses at the touch. 

Theon leans forward, whispering hot in Jon's ear. "How do you want me?" Jon shudders and Theon grins in delight. Playing the whore is fun. And Jon plays along beautifully. "What selection have I to choose from?" Theon lazily nips at Jon's ear. "Whatever you want... but no kissing. You've probably seen _Pretty Woman_ before. Same rules. No kissing." Theon is admittedly proud with himself for that thought. Sounds like he really knows what he is doing.

He feels Jon's laugh more than he hears it, a low rumble in his chest as he slides one hand around Theon's waist while the other takes hold of his neck. Gently he coaxes Theon back to look at him. He's doing that smoldering-look-thing again and Theon shudders out a breath. Jon's gaze somehow gets even more intense and Theon closes his eyes. Fuck this, he thinks in the fraction of time it takes Jon to cover Theon's lips with his. 

At first it's only a soft brush, then Jon opens his mouth and licks carefully at Theon's lips. With a moan Theon opens his mouth and welcomes Jon's tongue in. Jon's hands wander up to cup Theon's face as he deepens the kiss, exploring his mouth thoroughly. When he breaks away Theon chases after his mouth before he's aware of what he's doing. "No kissing," Jon agrees, the hint of a smile on his lips. "Who said that," Theon murmurs, already searching for Jon's mouth again, craving more. Too long... 

He feels Jon smile against his neck, his teeth lightly grazing Theon's skin. His hands glide down Theon's back and take hold of his arse, pulling him hard against Jon's erection. "Bed?" Theon gasps. Jon doesn't answer, but he starts to move backwards, dragging Theon with him until Jon sits down on the edge of the bed. He takes his hands off Theon and leans back onto his elbows. "Undress." 

Theon complies, hastily and probably entirely inelegant. Jon is watching him with dark eyes. At last Theon stands before him, naked and trembling in anticpation. "What about you?" Jon shrugs so Theon bends forward, pushing Jon down on the bed and opens his trousers with flying fingers, then pulling them down with his boxershorts. He swallows as Jon's cock springs free. He wants to touch it so bad, learn the feel of it, but when he reaches out, Jon catches his wrist. Confused Theon looks up into his face.

Jon uses his momentary distraction to yank him forward, so Theon finds himself kneeling on the bed, Jon between his legs. In one swift movement Jon pulls off his shirt and sits up. He buries his hands in Theon's hair and gently forces his head back, latching onto the sensitive skin at Theon's throat. Their chests are pressed together tightly and Theon's hands come up to clutch at Jon's shoulders. In that moment Jon bucks his hips up. It brings their crotches in full contact and Theon cried out. His mouth searches for Jon's, he wants to be kissed again, but Jon only nips at his neck. 

"You said no kissing."

Theon groans. "I thought you knew me as a teenager?" Jon growls while raking his nails slightly over Theon's back. "I did. You were a little shit, always either ignoring or taunting me." Theon shivers at his words, at his touches. "You... you should know that I talk a lot of crap then."

Does he do this to get back at Theon? But why would he do it like this? So... good... Jon's hands grab Theon's arse again and pull him tighter into Jon's lap. His tongue licks hot paths over Theon's collarbone now, and Theon arches his back. 

"Jon... please..." Jon's eyes glimmer. "What?" Theon's head falls forward, again he desperately searches for Jon's mouth. "Touch me. Kiss me. Fuck me! Just... do something." Jon leans back on his elbows again and Theon rakes his gaze over Jon's body. He really is a sight... all firm muscles and smooth skin, not the skinny kid he dimly remembers His face has changed too, not the long, sullen horseface it is in Theon's foggy memory. He's a handsome guy, and Theon wants him so bad by now it nearly hurts. He isn't doing anything though, just watching Theon watch him. 

Finally Jon breaks the silence. "What would you want me to do to you?" His voice is calm but his eyes are clouded with want and his cock is hard and darkbagainst his pale stomach. It takes Theon a moment before he can form a coherent sentence. "Fuck me." Jon's cock twitches at the words but he doesn't move. "How?" 

"However you want, Jon, bloody hell... just do it!"  

He doesn't move. Why doesn't he move?

"Why are you in such a hurry? We have time. One hour and a half if I'm guesstimating correctly."

Theon's eyes widen. "Because I want you?" Jon's eyes get a shade darker. "Do you really? How come? I was always a mere nuisance in your eyes. Only to be ignored, brushed over. Or to be mocked, sneered at." Now he sits up, moving one finger softly over Theon's cheek. "You haven't changed at all. Still a good-looking bastard. Still horny like the cocky boy with all the naughty stories."

He carefully takes Theon's chin and bends his head to the side. "Still there." Theon doesn't understand. " What?" Jon's lips brush over the spot behind his ear. "That tiny birthmark. Your hair was shorter back then and from the right angle I could see it." 

Theon shudders. Had he watched him so closely? Hadn't Jon hated him? He asks, "Why?"

Jon noses down Theon's neck and slowly starts sucking at the skin there. "You really didn't pay any attention to me at all. Just Robb's shadow. I was fretting all for naught. You'd never have noticed." He trails his mouth further down, taking a pert nipple into his mouth, sucking, licking, then giving it a tiny bite. "How violently I was in love with you."

Theon cries out, he's arched back so hard he'd fall off the bed if Jon wouldn't be holding him so tight. "You're right," he manages to say. "I never would've guessed. I only ever saw Robb." Jon bites down harder and the pain mixes with a hot flush of pleasure in Theon's stomach. "I know. But he's not here. And you say you want me." He grabs Theon's neck, drawing him against his mouth, hot and wet and everything Theon wants in that moment. Theon lets himself be consumed, feels like melting beneath Jon's hands, Jon's mouth... He rocks his hips, his cock brushing against Jon's and he moans. 

Jon growls. "Enough. I wanted you for fifteen fucking years. I'm done waiting." He looks at Theon with hunger plain on his face and Theon feel his gaze running over his body like molten gold. He scrambles to his feet. "Let me get..." He brings the lube and a condom back with him, putting both onto Jon's cock. Then he kneels in front of the bed, coating his own fingers and bringing them up behind him. Jon watches him with a hard to read expression as Theon is preparing himself. After all, good whores come prepared, and it seems to turn Jon on like hell. His cock looks even harder now. 

Once Theon is satisfied he climbs back onto the bed, straddling Jon's lap and positioning himself over his cock. He lowers himself down on it slowly, getting used to the burn, the stretch... Jon is still watching him but now it seemed an effort to stay motionless. Beads of sweat are forming on his forehead, he keeps still, giving Theon time to relax. Theon goes down until he's fully sheathed over Jon. He stills for a moment, then starts moving his hips. Jon moans at the movement, his hands shooting out to grip tight onto Theon's arsecheeks, pulling him deeper down. 

The burn has started to turn into a slow buzz of pleasure and Theon starts moving faster. Suddenly Jon sits up, pulling out and flipping Theon on his back. He holds one of Theon's legs up, and bent over him like that he pushes into him again. The new angle sets Theon's insides on fire, with every thrust he moanes, louder and louder. Jon is fucking him good, so good, hard, but he looks at him the whole time, as if he's drinking in the sight of him. "You're still so fucking beautiful... not like you looked then, no... but it's still you. I still want you... so... fucking... much!!!" Jon speeds up, pounding into Theon so hard he starts to see stars. Then Jon's hand wraps around Theon's aching cock, a squeeze, two, another thrust directly hitting his prostate and Theon screams. He comes and comes, all over his stomach, over Jon's hand, and Jon is fucking him through it until he groans and tenses over Theon, finally collapsing on top of him. 

Theon waits for him to pull out, to move away, to thank him for the fuck, anything. He isn't surprised when Jon rolls aside, taking care of the condom and cleaning himself. He doesn't expect him to return, stretch out beside him and reach out to touch his face, so tenderly Theon feels like crying. No one ever touches him like that. Jon cradles Theon's cheek and moves forward, pressing his lips on Theon's. It's their sweetest kiss.

Jon takes his time, stroking Theon's damp hair, tracing the line of his jaw, kissing him every so often. He looks into his eyes the whole time and Theon feels captured in Jon's gaze, unable to move, unable to speak. It's like nothing Theon has ever experienced. Time stands still for Theon and it's like a cold shower when Jon finally draws back. "Two hours are up." Theon's heartbeat falteres for a second. He has to ask. "Will you come back? You don't have to pay. Today neither." Jon is already dressed and turns to him. "I don't think I'll be back." He smiles. "Goodbye Theon." 

He's gone. Theon needs another twenty minutes before he's able to clean himself and get down. Ros watches his arrival with suspicion. "You look... strange. Part blissed out, part... if I'd know you less I'd say heartbroken." Theon shrugs. "Let's not talk about it. Be a good girl and get back to work." Ros rolls her eyes but gets up from Theon's place. "Before I forget. That guy..." Theon sighs. "Yes?" 

"He insisted on paying double."


	22. I'll follow you blindly, let me (Jon/Robb, M)

Jon has been sighing and giving Robb side-glances all day and now he's saying he's TIRED and wants to go to BED. He never goes before Robb does, that just doesn't happen. Except that now it is. Jon drifts out of the living room, without at least kissing Robb goodnight, which is SO never happening that Robb gets slightly panicky, because now it IS. When he's recovered enough to follow Jon he's just a lump under the covers, facing the wall, away from Robb.

Robb slips in, cuddles up to Jon. He doesn't react. "Jon?" No answer. He's pretending to be asleep. Robb is at a loss. What on earth could have happened between this morning, where Jon was completely normal, and this afternoon, when he came home all strange and sighy. He's had a meeting with his academic advisor, but if there has been something awful, Jon would've told Robb, he's sure. And it absolutely can't have anything to do with himself. He and Jon are studying completely different things.

The next morning Robb wakes up alone. He searches for Jon but he's nowhere to be found. Just when Robb ponders if he should call him, keys jiggle in the door and Jon comes in. He's in his running clothes, sweaty and exhausted. He's been out jogging, and Robb feels how he's starting to get angry. They normally go together. They jog their usual round, then get chocolate donuts for breakfast and tell themselves they'll eat something healthier the next day. Which they never do.

There are no donuts anywhere to be seen, and this only makes Robb's mood plummet further. Jon hasn't taken out his headphones, he's shuffling around the kitchen, taking out cornflakes (cornflakes???). He's ignoring Robb completely and the anger's boiling up in Robb's stomach so hard he has to take a deep breath not to scream. Or throw something. Cornflakes for example. Jon comes over to where Robb is standing, in front of the fridge. He doesn't look up, hand on the fridge door when he mumbles, "Need some milk."

Robb has had it. Instead of moving out of the way his hand closes around Jon's wrist in an iron grip. He stares down on him with barely contained rage, he grits his teeth and hisses, "What. WHAT!"

Jon looks up, eyes wide and startled. And suddenly he's all over Robb, clinging to him, tearing at his clothes, and they stumble backwards until Robb's against the kitchen table. Jon kisses him, hard, desperate somehow. His eyes look half-crazed when he says (shouts, really), "Turn around!"

Robb does, completely dazed by this sudden attack, and a moment later his pants are down and Jon's fingers (plural!) are in him; he hisses at the stretch and burn, but before he can complain about the roughness, the fingers are replaced by Jon's dick slamming in, and the burn is replaced by a flash of pain, then - very quickly - pleasure. If there's anything Jon knows, it's how to fuck Robb so good he's seeing sparks. And that's exactly what is Happening.

Jon fucks him good, brilliantly hitting the right spot over and over again, his hand surging forward to grab Robb's dick, working it in pace with his thrusts and before he knows what's going on Robb is coming all over their table. Jon groans, tenses and Robb feels him spill deep down inside him, another small wave of pleasure hitting him at the sensation. Jon pulls back slowly, muttering "Fuckfuckfuck" to himself over and over again.

Robb straightens up, stepping out of the pants around his ankles. He can feel Jon dripping out of him and the thought of the mess that'll make added to the mess already on the table (and the hem of his shirt) nearly has him freak out. Jon is gone, the shower's running and Robb wants to scream. What the fucking hell?!

Determined he marches into the bathroom, pulls back the shower curtain - Jon is crying. Jon. Is. Crying. Robb forgets about the table, the floor, his arse, his shirt, his rage. Jon is crying and his world is turned upside down.

He pulls Jon out, hugging him close. "Hey... hey, Jon... what is it? Please tell me what it is."

Jon just sniffs against Robb's chest, curls dripping wet, soaking Robb's poor shirt. He grabs a towel, wraps it around Jon and stirs him to the couch. Only when they've sat down Robb remembers: not only is he still naked from the waist down, he's probably just ruined the couch. Fuck it, Robb thinks, he can google 'How to remove cumstains from imitation suede' later.

He cradles Jon tightly in his arms. "Now tell me what's up."

Jon hiccups. "I hahad a talk wihith Mr. Seawohorth. And he saysays I can go to Irelahand for an exchahange yehear."

Robb frowns. "But that's good news. Jon, that's awesome!"

Jon shakes his head. "No it's NOT. I won't see you for a year! How can this be good? Long distance doesn't work ever! And Greyjoy will swoop in and steal you the minute I'm not looking! And before that happens I think we should end things because it's easier that way. And I can't, and I wanted to make you mad so maybe you'd do it..." He isn't sobbing anymore, but his eyes are all red and puffy and Robb nearly dies with love. He bends down to press a kiss on Jon's damp hair. What an idiot. Robb knows he should feel slighted at Jon's vision of Theon being able to seduce Robb before Jon's even around the corner, but he doesn't care right now.

It doesn't even take him a minute to think about the rest, think it through. His decision has been clear the moment Jon started talking.  "That would be horrible, I agree. But I hear Ireland's a beautiful country. So many historical sites, and all the pubs and everything."

Jon stares at him in disbelief. "Pubs? Sightseeing? While you and Greyjoy take a tumble in OUR bed?? Are you mad?"

Robb goes on, ignoring Jon's question and, again, the accusation of him cheating the second he's left alone. "Mom's got some relations in Ireland, she'll be thrilled that we're going."

Jon sneers. "Why would your mother be thrilled that I'm - what?" He straightens up. "We?"

Robb laughs about his dumbfounded expression. "Of course we. Did you think I would let you go away for one whole year without me?"

"But your classes, the flat, the family, everything?"

"I'm sure we'll figure everything out. Give me a couple of days. Besides..." Robb shifts on the couch uncomfortably. At least he's not sticking to it. "...we just ruined the couch and the kitchen table. What better time to move?"

Jon chuckles, still looking a bit unsure.

Robb takes Jon's face in his hands, kisses him long and tenderly. "Would you fuck me again? Like that one time on holidays? We could ruin the bed too - one thing less we have to worry about leaving behind. Hey, we can always give it to Theon for his solo tumble, because I for sure won't be present."

Jon starts to smile, really wide, and Robb can see he's finally gotten his head around it. As if Robb could ever live without him. Jon really should know Robb would follow him anywhere without asking, even to the end of the world. And beyond.


	23. I'm falling into pieces, how are you?

Jon groans when his brother and Theon enter the kitchen together. Robb raises an eyebrow, Theon ignores him as usual. Jon couldn‘t care less about that, he tells himself. He looks at Robb with an annoyed expression.

„Why is he always here? Can’t we have some peace and quiet once in a while?“

Theon looks at Jon at that, so quickly Jon thinks he may have imagined it. Robb frowns. 

„Jon, stop it. Theon’s my best friend and he’s here because I want him to be here. You’ll just have to live with it. Cheer up, we brought pizza!“

„With chili sauce?“

„What do you think, anything for you!“ Robb pokes his tongue out and Jon smiles despite himself.

They eat in relative peace until it comes to the last slice. Jon growls when he and Theon both reach for it. Robb is annoyed again.

„Please don’t kill yourself over a slice of pizza, guys. I’m going to get another one, so nobody goes hungry, okay?“

He isn’t out of the door for even two seconds and they’re at it again, bickering and staring at each other, none of them wanting to back down. Until Theon sighs, taking the last piece into his hand and offering it to Jon like a sacrifice.

„Here you go, you twat. And remember, you don’t bite the hand that feeds you!“

Jon stares at him in disbelief, but he’s still fucking hungry, and Robb will be gone for an eternity. So he has no other choice than to let himself being fed by the biggest pest on the planet. He’s not used to eating out of someone’s hand, he makes a mess of himself, the chili sauce dripping down his chin. He fumbles around for a napkin, but before he can find one, Theon raises a hand and wipes the stain away with his thumb, across his cheek and over his lips.

Jon jolts back with a start.

„What the fuck..?“

Theon has already left the table. He’s busying himself over at the kitchen counter, fumbling with a kitchen towel. He refuses to look at Jon. When Robb comes back he finds them like this, Jon glued to his seat, mouth open and looking like a moron, Theon scrubbing away at some clean plates. He rolls his eyes.

„Couldn’t you at least talk about football or something like this?“

Theon shrugs and throws the towel away. 

„Let’s talk about tomorrow. When are we going to Jeyne’s and what are we wearing?“

Jon sighs heavily.

„Clothes, Greyjoy. Robb, do I have to come? They don’t like me anyways, I shouldn’t go.“

Robb is stubborn.

„You’re my brother and you’re coming with me. Besides, nobody’s going to say anything. You're way too sensitive, nobody has anything against you. And you’re with me and Theon and we’re going to look after you.“

Jon scoffs.

„Well, thank you, brother-in-shining-armour. But I don’t need your protection. I just don’t know any of them, really.“

„Bull. You know me and Theon and Jeyne. Sansa’s coming too perhaps, so you know a lot of people already.“

Jon grumbles something about knowing one too many when his look involuntarily falls on Theon. His brother’s best friend is looking at him with a gaze hard to describe. Jon feels goosebumps all over his skin when he thinks of going to a party where Theon will be too. Theon and alcohol. Jon's not good hiding his feelings when he's drunk. And Jon's feelings towards Theon all culminate in the same result: punch him.

 

The party is already in full swing when they enter. Robb first, confident like he’s the king of the world, Jon and Theon like little moons in his orbit. Everyone knows Robb, everyone loves Robb. Everyone accepts Theon because he’s cool as a cucumber, but no one ever took a liking to Jon. He would say it's because he's too different. Robb would say it's because he's never giving anyone the chance to warm to him. Theon would say it's because Jon is a miserable bastard with a sour face that no one wants to look at for long.

But he’s with Robb and while people aren’t exactly talking to him, they’re not really ignoring him either. He gets a beer, he gets some snacks and he nearly feels comfortable, sitting next to Robb on a couch, listening to him talking with a hundred different people it seems. After a while Jon is pretty hammered and when he’s hammered he gains confidence. So he swaggers over to the music system to pick the next song. It's only three weeks until Christmas and Jon wants to hear his favourite Christmas song.

When he’s nearly there, someone shoulders him out of the way. Greyjoy, of course. Jon sees red.

„What’s wrong with you, man? I wanted to put a song in!“

„Well, so do I. And I’m going to, now.“

„No the fuck you won’t! I was here before!!“

„You weren’t, you were behind me when I came here!“

„Oh shut up, Greyjoy. Who wants to listen to your stupid kind of music anyways?“

„A lot of people, I assure you. Now would you piss of, Snow?“

Jon relents. It’s not worth fighting over and if he stays in Theon’s vicinity one more second he’s definitely going to punch him in the face, so he leaves. He’s not come far when the next song starts, and Jon stops. He turns around to look at Theon and sees him grinning back at him with sheer attitude. But the song he picked is the one Jon would’ve picked. Jon raises his eyebrows and turns back to leaving when the song changes. 

 

_„I don't want a lot for Christmas, there is just one thing I need_

_..._

_All I want for Christmas is you...“_

 

Jon looks back over his shoulder, expecting Theon to ogle some girl in his range - but he’s still looking at Jon, and he’s not smiling anymore. Jon feels his stomach tighten. _What?_ He needs a clear head, so he heads out into the garden. He sits down on a chair, sips on his beer and enjoys the quiet. But not for long.

„You satisfied?“

Jon closes his eyes in exasperation. Can’t he leave him alone one minute?!

„Why’d you pick that song?“

„It was the one you wanted, wasn’t it?“

„I mean the other one.“

When no answer follows his question, Jon looks up. Theon is standing next to him, something suspiciously whisky-coloured in his glass. He looks unsure.

„Honestly, Snow… I’ll be fucked if I know. Cheers!“

And he downs his glass in one big gulp.

„Going to get a refill on that, you should too. Excellent stuff, for a Blended.“ 

With that he’s gone, leaving Jon to wonder if maybe he’s lost his marbles once and for all.

 

When Jon comes looking for Robb it’s early morning already. He finds him on the couch, up to his ears in Jeyne Westerling’s blouse. When he tries to sneak past, Robb grabs his sleeve.

„Going to stay here til tomorrow. Could you do me a huge favour and take Theon home? He’s totally out of it and I don’t think he’ll make it home in one peace. He can sleep in my room.“

Jon rolls his eyes, but he goes searching for Theon. He finds him in the kitchen. Robb was right, he’s totally plastered. He tries to lift his head from the kitchen table and upon seeing Jon he hiccups.

„There you are, Snow, come on, have a drink with me! Let’s make a man out of you!“

„You’re pissed, Greyjoy.“

„You can’t mean it. I’m just slightly tipsy!“

„You’re completely shit-faced and Robb told me to take you home, so move your ass.“

„Where’s our schmoozy-woozy Robby at, then? Still trying to get that Jeyne out of her clothes?“

„I think he’s nearly there. Come on now!“

„Aye-aye, Sir!“

Theon’s attempt at a salute is nearly comical and Jon finds himself repressing a smile. Too late though, Theon has spied it and leaps at the opportunity.

„No way, Snow! Do that again! Or don’t, I don’t know how I can survive such an atrocity!“

At that Jon really has to smile and Theon slaps his hand over his eyes.

„OW! It’s blinding! Stop! You’re blinding me!“

 

Jon has had enough. He yanks Theon after him and together they leave the house. Jon has the greatest trouble manoeuvering Theon into a taxi but he succeeds. Once home they play the game the other way round and Jon pays the driver. The man looks so relieved that nobody puked in his taxi that Jon gives him a big tip. 

He bundles Theon through the door and into Robb’s room where he collapses on the bed. After watching him making a few feeble attempts to get his shoes off, Jon sighs and helps. Hesitating at first, but then quickly he also takes off Theon’s trousers and jacket, leaving him in in his shirt and boxers. When he turns to leave the room he hears Theon scrambling to his feet once again. 

„Wait, Snow! Why’s your brother’s room so shaky?“

„Lie down and it will stop.“

„But I need to piss!!“

„Jesus Christ, Greyjoy, you’re worse than a child. I’ll take you to the bathroom door but no further, you got me?“

 

Theon leans on Jon, singing a stupid little song about some drunken sailors until they reach the bathroom. There he straightens and puts his hands on Jon’s shoulders.

„Well, thank you, good sir! I’ll manage myself from here!“

And before Jon knows what he’s doing, he’s leaned forward and kissed Jon on each cheek with much grandeur.

„Mwah Mwah, as the French have it! Good night, Snow! I’d like some pancakes for breakfest tomorrow!“ 

Jon is aghast.

„First, stop that crap. Second, you make your own breakfast, _Prince_ Theon!“

Theon looks at him, blinking. Jon can nearly see the wheels rattling in his head. He takes a step and then - his hands are in Jon's hair and his mouth is on Jon's and his lips are open and warm and soft and Jon's knees give way, and he opens his mouth too and it's even warmer, so soft, so good - Theon moves back and sighs, looking satisfied with himself.

„Now you HAVE to make me breakfast if you’re a gentleman! You can't just kiss someone and then throw them out without _breakfast_! Good night!“

And he closes the bathroom door behind him, leaving Jon standing on the other side, slack-jawed and flaming red. And maybe a teeny, tiny flutter in his stomach. Butterflies? He touches his lips. Okay, definitely no butterflies. More like, hornets. Big fat stinging hornets.

 

Jon swallows. This really is the last thing he's needed. He grabs his jacket and goes out, drifting through the streets until he finds himself in front of an open Supermarket, grumbling under his breath about stupid Greyjoy and his idiocy, wondering if Theon has made breakfast for a woman after he'd shagged her - shagged, not just kissed! - ever in his life. He should be glad Jon hasn't bitten him or something. He should've.  

He leaves after twenty minutes, grudgingly clutching a bag. It's nearly seven in the morning already, he's been running around for a long time. Back at home he fights himself for a good ten minutes before opening the door to Robb's room. Theon's sleeping, on his side, one arm over his face. Jon creeps a few steps further. There's something dark on Theon's arm, like a tattoo, but he doesn't have one on his arm, and Jon takes a closer look. Permanent marker, if he has to guess. He cranes his neck to be able to read it and when he is his stupid heart trips in his chest only to start beating so loud he quickly shuffles out, scared it could wake Theon.

Jon stumbles into the kitchen, unpacking the bag from the supermarket. He thinks of what's written on Theon's arm.

_Don't forget tomorrow: Finally kissed Jon!_

And a slightly smeared smiley.

Jon looks at his watch. Robb will be home soon and he should start thinking about waking Theon. He sighs and grabs a pan. It's the least he can do. Wake him up with some bloody pancakes.

 


	24. I can't wipe that smile off my face (Theon/Jon/Robb, M)

"Tomorrow! Tomorrow! Tomorrow!!" Robb is hopping up and down exitedly while they're at Sainsbury's. Theon rolls his eyes fondly. Robb looks like an overgrown Five-year-old. "Actually tomorrow's the twenty-fourth."

Jon nudges him in the side, hard. "Shut up. You know it's his favourite days. Don't spoil it."

Theon rubs his ribs where Jon's elbow has hit him. "I'm not spoiling anything, just trying to save him from an early heart attack."

Jon raises his eyebrows. "You'll come over tomorrow and stay until boxing day as planned." It's not a question and Theon knows it. 

"Yeah, yeah. Still don't know why I have to be there. You two get along pretty well on your own." Actually, he doesn't want to wake up on Christmas morning to the creaking of the bed next door, and Robb's much too vocal enthusiasm (and really, Jon isn't any better) - but there's nothing he can do about that. Well, he could stuff his fingers in his ears. Or toss himself off while pretending it's him that causes the noises they make. He's done both in the past. 

Of course he's been in love with Robb since forever, stupid perfect Robb with his stupid perfect girlfriend. Still there had been some moments when Theon had thought - looks, a few touches that had made his heart beat faster and almost let him hope... He's never said anything of course. Robb Stark would never have thought about Theon like this. Plus, it's been some time now Theon had started to see Jon as something else than an unavoidable nuisance. He'd even planned on asking him out, they were flirting heavily all the time and Theon thought he'd quite like to see where it could go. Unfortunately Robb had grown the balls to dump his girlfriend and tell Jon how he'd felt for him around the same time, which Theon still resents him a bit for (why not him?) and of course Jon hadn't even thought about saying no for a second. Theon can't even blame him for _that_. Well. Maybe a little.

So basically both guys he's been seriously falling for were snapped up right in front of Theon's nose, by each other. Which is more than bad luck, it's nearly epically bad luck. They're cousins, which Theon doesn't find as weird as he probably should, but it makes the whole thing even more unfair. It's as if no mere mortal ever had a chance to compete with either of them. But they do look great together and have both often starred in his headcanon, single or together, so Theon doesn't want to mope too much and scare them away. 

It doesn't mean he's thrilled by the prospect of three days playing fifth wheel though. Whatever. It'll pass, and besides, he's already got their present. (A whole week on his uncle's fancy little yacht that Theon has to pay rent for, despite being related and all. Bloody Euron. But the boat is nice.)

Robb packs their cart with enough food and drink to feed a family of five for a week. Theon wants to remind him that it's only three days, and three people, but then again, why bother. The two of them can probably live on leftovers until New Year's. Jon pays and refuses Theon's offer of chipping in, elbowing him again. Theon groans. He'll be green and blue if Jon continues like that over the holidays. Still, any contact is better than none at all.

 

He's in front of their door late in the afternoon the next day, carrying his overnight bag over his shoulder. Jon opens, already in full attire. If Theon has to judge by the sour look on his face it wasn't entirely voluntary. Theon regards the colourful sweater with a grin as he shuffles past Jon into the flat. "Nice one, Snow. What did your boy promise you to wear that?"

Jon rolls his eyes. "Better ask what he threatened me with if I don't. Hell is just a sauna compared to that." 

Theon dumps his bags in the room he always sleeps in when he stays over. The bed is made and there are new green curtains. He sniffs. Were the walls always blue? It smells like fresh paint. There's a picture of the three of them on the dresser. Theon takes it, smiling to himself. Jon, wearing a ridiculous birthday party hat, is in the middle, making a face as Theon is mussing his hair and Robb is kissing his cheek. Theon unpacks his few things and heads out again. He finds Robb in the kitchen, preparing some complicated looking dinner. 

"Hey, man! What's that? Smells good." He claps Robb on the back, peering over his shoulder. 

"Coq au vin. Pity you can't cross a chicken with a centipede. Then everyone would get as many legs as they want. As it is..." He turns around, holding his hand under the big wooden spoon he's presenting to Theon. "...you'll get two."

Theon licks the spoon clean with an ecstatic moan. "Fantastic. Why do I get two?"

Robb shrugs. "Why not? Give me twenty minutes and we're ready."

Theon goes to retrieve plates and cutlery from cupboards and drawers and starts setting the table. "Good thing I didn't have lunch today. You're always trying to fatten me when I'm here."

Jon rounds the corner with a big pot that's wrapped loosely in a towel. "Who's fat?" Theon watches as he puts it on the table. "Nobody yet. What's that?"

"Rice." 

Theon's incredulous. "Where did it come from?"

Robb laughs while stirring the sauce. "We kept it warm in the bed. Nothing's worse than rice that's not ready when the food is."

"Oh, okay." Theon tries not to be in the way, but Jon sets a loaf of crispy white bread and a knife in front of him. "Be useful." Theon obligingly starts cutting the bread, but he has to ask. "Bread AND rice? Isn't that a bit much?" Jon's preparing a green salad opposite him and huffs. "I like rice. You like bread and Robb eats anything. Everyone's happy." Theon can't answer because his mouth is already stuffed, but he wriggles his eyebrows appreciatively, nearly making Jon smile.

The dinner is delicious and Theon's moans grow louder and louder while he wipes his plate clean with the rest of the bread. "Stark, your talents are wasted in the courtroom. I'd marry you for your cooking skills alone." Robb grins and winks at Jon and suddenly Theon has trouble swallowing that last bite. They're not getting married, are they? He'll have to leave the country.

The rest of the evening goes by with them watching cheesy Christmas movies, Jon and Robb snuggled together on the couch, Theon in the armchair. There's enough space on the couch to fit him as well, but it'd feel intrusive. And torturous. He's trying hard not to be too jealous. After all he'd known it would be like that. Robb yawns and yawns, so much Theon's own jaw starts to hurt in sympathy, and finally Robb gives in. He whispers something to Jon that has them both grinning, then kisses him and gets up. "Calling it a night. Don't stay up too late, boys. TOMORROW'S CHRISTMAS!" In passing he bends down and kisses the top of Theon's head, which shouldn't be as touching as it is, Theon thinks while fighting the urge to touch his head.  

He and Jon are alone and Theon turns to look at him. Jon is watching him with a strange expression and Theon feels himself getting uneasy. It could be so nice, if things were still like they've been before, Jon and Robb just cousins and roommates, Theon staying over, him and Jon flirting while Robb the oblivious angel is cooing into the phone. Theon tries to swallow the lump in his throat, scolding himself for being an idiot. Okay, diversionary manoeuvre. "How 'bout a round of Super Smash Brothers?" Jon shrugs, then proceeds to take his shirt off. Theon gapes, mouth hanging open. "What the fuck, Snow??" 

Jon shrugs. "I have no idea how you can stand it. It has to have twenty-five in here." Theon ponders that. It's true, it is warm. The two of them normally like it cool, and everytime Theon's over he shivers and complains all the time that he's freezing his balls off. Today it's cosy and toasty. He eyes Jon from the side as he's stretching to reach the crisps on the table. Damn, that's really mean. Showing Theon where he can't put his hands. He sighs. That's going to be a fucking long Christmas.

 

Theon wakes up on Christmas morning to heavenly peace and a steaming mug on his bedside table. And a triple chocolate chip cookie. He regards it with suspicion. Slowly he's getting the distinct feeling they're up to something nasty, trying to spoil him like this. Maybe they ARE getting married and try to needle him into playing bridesmaid or something like that. He eats the cookie anyways. Then he wanders over into the bathroom, only to shoot out again a moment later. "Stark!!! Lock the door when you're in there for fuck's sake!!" Robb comes out, toweling himself with an innocent expression. "IT'S CHRISTMAS!! Don't be a wuss. Nothing you haven't seen already." And he's right, Theon knows he is. Still, it feels like added torture. Robb is gorgeous. Groaning he tries to shuffle past, but Robb catches the hem of his shirt and, when Theon turns around, throws his wet towel at him. "Be a sweetie and hang that up. Thanks! And hurry," and he stalks away, flashing Theon with his perfect butt. Theon flees into the shower.  

When he's finally dry and decently clothed he goes to retrieve the present from his room. He's taken half a day at the office to secretly work on a coupon for the yacht and he has to say for himself, it looks cool, professional even. On his way to the living room he passes the other two's bedroom. The door is open and he stops dead in his tracks. _What the...?_ Where before has been a perfectly normal bed with a sensible size for two people, now stands the most gigantic thing Theon has ever seen. This has to be emperor-size!! It fills the room completely. The dressers are gone, the bedside tables are gone - the room is basically one giant bed with a little path around it. The only other thing is the wide headboard, like a shelf. It's absolutely cluttered. What on earth were they getting up to to need such a bed? 

"Theon!!! Robb has started hyperventilating here, come on!!" Jon's impatient shout gets Theon going. He still wanders into the kitchen first to get another coffee. The gigantic turkey's in the oven and there's a whole lot of other things standing around halfway prepared. He's just contemplating if he could get away with quickly warming a croissant when Jon's voice makes him jump. "THEON!! He's going to explode!!" And really, Robb is sitting cross-legged on the carpet, wrapped parcel in his lap. He's wearing pyjama pants with snowmen on it. It's disgustingly adorable, as is his flushed face, brimming with excitement.  

"Finally," he crows, and starts tearing at the wrapping. Theon slumps down between them and watches Robb with a mix of fondness and exasperation. "You could've started without me." Robb shoots Jon a vitriolic look, but Jon's unimpressed. "Certainly not." He leans over and grabs a tiny package, shoving it in Theon's hands. Meanwhile Robb has uncovered a soft, navy cashmere jumper, squealing with delight. "Oh Jon, that looks horribly expensive! You shouldn't have..." He rubs the jumper against his cheeks. "Okay, you totally should have. Thanks!" He's just about to grab the next present, when he pauses.

"Theon, open yours!" Theon sighs but complies. It's really tiny. Maybe a keychain with a kraken. That would be cool, since he's lost his some weeks ago. A moment later he's staring at the thing, lying in a bed of tissue paper. A keychain with a kraken. _His_ keychain with a kraken, he recognises it because one of the tentacles is broken. And a key. He looks up into two faces, both wide-eyed and grinning like idiots. Theon doesn't get it. Why have they stolen his keychain? He tries to think of things he'd need a key to. "Am I getting a storage space? Or an allotment garden?" They have the nerve to giggle at that. Finally Jon deigns to answer. "You get a flat." 

"Huh?" Now Theon is really confused. He already has a flat, a bit shitty but okay. Jon rolls his eyes, but he scrambles to his feet and pulls Theon up. Theon wants to do the same with Robb but is waved away. "I'm really busy here, you two go alone." Jon drags him to the front door, removes Robb's key and looks at Theon expectantly. Theon stares. Oh. _Oh?_ Slightly trembling Theon puts his new key into the lock. A perfect fit. He looks at Jon who's wearing a smug smile. "I don't get it. I mean it's nice of you, but I wouldn't come here without you or Robb being home anyways, so..." The sound of paper tearing and shrill screams from the living room stops for a moment and Robb shouts, "Why don't you give him the second part?"

Second part? Theon stares at Jon. Jon stares back. Then he takes a step towards Theon. "Tell me if you don't want your present." And then he kisses Theon, really kisses him, and every thought vanishes from Theon's mind. When Jon pulls back to look at him with a slightly worried gaze, Theon swallows dryly. He doesn't get it _at all_. Is Robb in on this? He must be. But why would Jon do this? He's still obviously waiting for an answer, so Theon says, choked, "I want my present." Jon chuckles and tries to wink, which is hilarious because he can't, so basically he's just closing his eyes quickly. Theon wants to comment on that when Jon shushes him. "We can start bickering later. Now go and get the third part."

 

A third part? Jon nods over Theon's shoulder and he turns around. Robb has sneaked up on him and now he catches Theon in a rib-crushing hug, and then he kisses Theon too, Theon's being kissed by _Robb Stark_ and now his knees are getting weak and he has to clutch Robb's shoulders to stay upright. "I just don't get it," he mutters, and the impertinent douchebags actually start laughing. Is this some kind of really, _really_ mean joke? But Robb wraps an arm around Theon's shoulder and drags him back into the living room, settling down on the couch.  

Jon comes to sit on his other side and frowns at Theon like he's the bad cop of the two. "How long have you been in love with Robb?" Theon reels back into the cushions. _They know that?_ Fuck, this is really embarrassing.

"Like, always?" Jon continues, and Theon just nods. On his other side Robb mumbles something like, "opened your goddamn mouth you twat", but Jon ignores him, going on. "And if I'm not entirely mistaken you actually planned on hitting on me, only Robb was faster. That true?" Theon is stunned. "How do you know that???" He's nearly shouting now and Jon's grin doesn't help at all. His answer is short. "Asha."

Theon groans, dropping his head in his hands. "I'll fucking strangle her." He looks back up. "I still don't get what that has to do with this. Are you pity-kissing me because it's Christmas? Like that chick and the guy with the signboards from that movie?"

"God, you're thicker than a tree," Robb says, taking Theon's hand. "I'll spell it out for you then. Do you want to live with us? Be with us?" Theon stares at him, then at Jon. "You have your own room of course, but you're more than welcome to share ours." Theon has a lightbulb moment. "Big bed. That's why." He's still not entirely sure what's happening here. Robb studies his face with something like apprehension. "Jon says you've been on edge every single time you've been around us since we became - that you were jealous. I wouldn't have thought - well, I'm not the most perceptive person on the planet. But when Jon told me he wanted you and asked if _I_ wanted you - if only you would've said something sooner! I've always wanted you, Theon."  

Theon makes a strangled sound and then he's firmly wedged in a tight embrace between Jon and Robb and the penny finally drops. They mean it. They want him. _They want him_. Theon starts smiling. He doesn't stop when Jon kisses his neck, when Robb's hands are gliding down his back - he doesn't stop smiling for a single second.

 

When they have thoroughly put that humongous bed to the test, Theon lies between his roommates and lovers, still smiling. His jaw is starting to ache from the strain but he really can't stop. Robb lies with his head on Theon's chest, stroking Theon's stomach lazily when suddenly he jumps up as if bitten by something. "The turkey!!!!" He weasels out, not even bothering with clothes or the like. A relieved sound from the kitchen has Jon and Theon look at each other, then Jon starts laughing so hard he nearly suffocates, he clings to Theon trying to catch his breath, and Theon smiles and smiles. 

When they go out to check on Robb he's started to mash potatoes, obviously having a blast at playing naked chef. Theon looks over to a pan where Robb is preparing roasted potatoes. "Isn't that a lot of potatoes?"

"Yeah," Jon says, "I like them mashed, you like them roasted and Robb eats anything." He's sneaking an arm around Theon's waist as he speaks, the other one around Robb's, and Theon thinks he's never felt so warm in his whole life.

Best. Christmas. Ever.


End file.
